


I Do?

by BSloves1D



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, American Harry Styles, Closeted Character, Closeted Harry Styles, Closeted Louis Tomlinson, Daddy Issues, Drunken Flirting, Drunken Kissing, Harry Styles & Taylor Swift Friendship, Harry is a Little Shit, Las Vegas, Las Vegas Wedding, Louis Tomlinson Calls Harry Styles Pet Names, Male-Female Friendship, Multi, Niall Horan & Harry Styles Friendship, Past Abuse, Secrets, Slow Build Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Slow Burn, TikTok, Top Louis Tomlinson
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-12 06:34:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 24,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28506033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BSloves1D/pseuds/BSloves1D
Summary: Harry Styles wakes up one morning to find a ring on his finger and a marriage certificate with his name on it. The worst part: the other name belongs to a 'Louis Tomlinson', but Harry's straight.-One drunken night in Vegas changes Harry's life forever.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Jade Thirlwall, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Harry Styles/Taylor Swift, Niall Horan/Leigh-Anne Pinnock
Comments: 8
Kudos: 52





	1. What Happens in Vegas

Harry doesn't know if his pounding headache is what wakes him up or the sun shining in through the hotel windows. Either way, he curses under his breath as he slowly rubs the sleep away from his eyes. 

"Fuck," Harry whispers to himself as he opens his eyes. Yellow/white sunlight shines into the room through the curtains. Usually, Harry remembers to close the curtains all the way to avoid situations like this, but he must've forgotten to do it last night. 

Deciding that the sun is far too bright, Harry throws the blanket over his head. From under the blanket, he pats around blindly for his phone and finds it plugged into the wall. At least he remembered to charge his phone last night. Staring at the bright screen doesn't help ease his headache any, but he doesn't care. Judging by the pounding in his ears, he'll have a headache all day anyway. 

Harry knows the night was a wild one when the camera app launches when he unlocks his phone. Sighing, he taps on the icon at the bottom of the screen, hoping that the photos will help him remember the events from the evening before. 

Most of the photos are blurry photos of the ground or bad selfies. Harry deletes most of them but keeps a couple of the funnier ones to post to his private Snapchat story later. Speaking of, Harry exits the camera app and switches to Snap. Sighing, he taps through all the photos and streaks he's been sent by various girls this morning already. 

He takes a quick photo of himself, making sure to include his collarbone and jawline, and scribbles an 's' at the top before sending it to all of his streaks. Almost immediately he gets a couple of girls responding back with various hearts or compliments about his physical features. He doesn't even bother going through and opening all of the messages because, honestly, he doesn't care enough to. He's not interested in any of them anyway, although, some would be good for a night out. 

Sighing, he decides to get up and try to start his day. As he slides out of his bed, he feels a piece of paper crunch under his foot. Confused, he glances down. From the looks of it, it's formal whatever the document is. The paper has a strange pinkish appearance to it with blue borders. He bends down and picks it up gingerly, his stomach dropping as he reads the word at the top, 'Certificate of Marriage'. 

Well, Harry's vacation just got a lot more interesting. 


	2. Did You Try Twitter?

"Niall what the fuck did I do yesterday," Harry whisper-shouts as he slides into the chair across from his friend. Tiredly, Niall lets out a yawn and motions for Harry to quiet down.

"What do you mean," Niall sighs. He doesn't spare Harry a glance as he cuts his waffle into a bite-size piece. Harry glances around the room nervously, suddenly scared someone will see the piece of paper he's holding in his hand.

"This is what I mean," Harry hisses as he slides the paper towards Niall. Once Niall takes it in his hand Harry puts as much distance between himself and the document as he can. The chair he's leaning in nearly topples over a few times, but Harry doesn't even care. The piece of paper is the most terrifying thing he's seen in his entire life.

Harry watches nervously as Niall gently places his fork down before glancing at the paper. As soon as his eyes read the words at the top he chokes on the waffle, sending him into a coughing fit. "Shut the fuck up, people are staring," Harry whispers harshly. Niall sets the sheet down and finishes his coughing spell into his elbow before finally catching his breath.

"Is this real," Niall asks as he spares the paper a side-ways glance as if it's cursed. Harry leans forward in his chair, not wanting to risk anyone in the hotel lobby hearing him.

"I think so... I don't know! It was on the floor when I woke up and I can't remember anything that happened yesterday," Harry sighs as he dramatically lays his head on the table. "Why am I so stupid when I drink? I'm never drinking again."

Harry trains his eyes on the waffle machine and the cute girl standing by it. "You can lie to yourself but don't lie to me. You're a certified alcoholic and... certificated as married now too I guess," Niall laughs.

Harry sits up sharply and lasers his gaze at Niall, "This is not a laughing matter! I'm a married man, Niall. I'm a married man to someone I've never met!" His eyes fall on the girl at the waffle station again as she laughs loudly. Her laugh is a little too loud for Harry's liking, but the thoughts running through his head wouldn't involve laughing anyway.

Niall seems to have caught Harry's gaze and tsks, "Ah, no looking. You're a newly-wed and you can't already be thinking of cheating on your wife." Harry rolls his eyes and turns his head to face the other direction.

"It's not like it matters who she is anyway," Harry sighs. He figures he'll figure out a way to find her and send her the proper paperwork for a divorce. As much as he hates the idea of being a 19 divorcee, there's not much else he can do about the matter. He's not prepared for a relationship at the moment, nonetheless to the commitment involved in a marriage.

"He... it doesn't matter who, uh... _he_ is," Niall says awkwardly. Harry furrows his eyebrows, confused, but sure Niall's just misunderstanding. He who?

"What are you on about," Harry sighs as he sits up again. His whole body aches and not only from the hangover. He leans his head in his hands, not even having the energy to hold his head up.

"Um... I think you married a guy, H," Niall states as he slides the document over to Harry. Oh god. This can't be happening. Harry snatches the paper from Niall's grip.

He didn't even bother looking at the other name on the sheet earlier, there was no point to. When he saw the paper he thought it was a joke and the name belonged to some made-up person. Obviously, he knows now the paper is official but he couldn't possibly have married a man. There have been a lot of bad decisions that Drunk Harry has made, but marrying... a guy? That's off the table.

Nonetheless, the name at the bottom of the page reads 'Louis Tomlinson'. Louis can be a girl's name. Admittedly, Harry's never met a female Louis, but he's sure it could happen.

"Lewis Tomlinson... so does that make you Mr. Tomlinson now or do you think this Lewis fellow will change to Lewis Styles. I will say that Harry Tomlinson has a bit of a ring to it," Niall teases. Harry shoves the paper to the edge of the table, not wanting to look at it a moment longer.

"Nobody is changing their name! This is some sort of cruel joke. Even drunk I wouldn't... marry a guy," Harry hisses under his breath. He glances around after the words have left his lips, not wanting anyone to hear him. This is embarrassing enough as it is. The last thing he needs is for everyone in the hotel to know about it.

"Fine, but you have to find him you know," Niall sighs as he goes back to his waffle. Harry shakes his head.

"I could just forget it happened," Harry suggests. Niall rolls his eyes as he takes a bite of the waffle.

"You know you can't do that," Niall says. Harry gives him a look that reads 'try me' but Niall continues, "Let's say you're 24 and you found this great girl who you want to marry. You can't, because you're married to a guy you never met when you were 19. Now, you have to put your entire life on hold to find the guy who, may or may not, want to sign the divorce papers. It would end up in a huge hassle. Future you will thank me for pushing you to divorce him now."

"I hate when you're right," Harry grumbles. Niall just lets out a happy little 'hm' as he finishes the last of his waffle. "How am I even supposed to find him? I don't know anything about him! I mean I know that his name is Louis Tomlinson and his birthday but there could be a thousand different people who have the same name and birthday."

"Did you try twitter? I hear they're pretty good at finding people," Niall suggests. Harry rolls his eyes.

"What? I'm just supposed to tweet 'looking for a guy named Louis Tomlinson. Here's his birthday. Thank you'?"

Niall shrugs, "Why not? Are there any pictures on your phone that could be him?"

Harry shakes his head but pulls his phone out anyway. "I went through my camera roll this morning and didn't see anything like that," He sighs. For reassurance, Harry opens the photos app and starts scrolling. He's more careful now as he looks in the back of his photos for a clue of who this 'Louis Tomlinson' guy could possibly be.

He stops as he sees a blurry jacket in the back of one of his selfies. It's a guy, that's for sure. His hair is cut short and brown from what Harry can make out, and he's wearing a purple and yellow windbreaker. It's not much, but it's something to start with.

"Just tweet it Harry, you'll thank me later."

Sighing, Harry opens Twitter and composes a new tweet.

@HarrySTheBest tweeted:

_Help me find a guy? His name is Louis Tomlinson and he's 21. I think we accidentally got married and I need to find him for the divorce lol. I think this is him._

_*1 attached photo_

_Reply 0 retweets 0 likes_

@HarrySTheBest replied to @HarrySTheBest tweet:

_I'm straight btw. I was drunk. Vegas and shit yk how it is._

_Reply 0 retweets 0 likes_

"And now," Niall sighs, "We wait."


	3. You Must be My Husband

Harry glances nervously at his phone as paces in his hotel room. Niall lays sprawled out on his bed tossing a pair of socks in the air and catching them. Already, Harry's sent him a warning gaze, silently telling him to fuck off but Niall continues despite it.

"You're being a girl, Harry," Niall sighs as he sits up from the bed, letting the pair of socks fall next to him. Harry lifts his phone to show Niall the tweet he sent out this morning.

@HarrySTheBest tweeted:

_Help me find a guy? His name is Louis Tomlinson and he's 21. I think we accidentally got married and I need to find him for the divorce lol. I think this is him._

_*1 attached photo_

_Reply 489K retweets 1.3M likes_

"It has over a million likes, Niall, I'm not being a girl alright? People who know me are going to see this and think I'm gay or something," Harry complains. He runs his free hand through his hair in an attempt to calm himself down.

The last thing he needs is for one of his hookups back home to think he's gay or for gay guys to think that they have a shot with Harry. Don't get him wrong, Harry respects other people's sexual... preferences but that doesn't mean he has to share those preferences. He likes tits and vagina, it is what it is.

"What's wrong with thinking you're gay? Besides, you added that you're straight and that you were drunk. I'm sure people will just think it's funny."

Niall stands and pulls out his own phone. Pathetically, Harry watches as Niall moves his phone to take a selfie. "This isn't the time for selfies, Niall. I'm having a crisis!"

"You're being a drama queen," Niall mutters as he pulls his phone back down to type. A moment later, Harry gets an Instagram notification from his phone.

He glances down and is filled with fury when he sees that Niall posted a new story and tagged Harry in it. Shaking, he taps the story.

The screen is filled with a photo of Harry, taken only seconds before. He'll admit that he looks hot in it, so he's not mad at the photo itself. His hair is what the girls call an 'e-boy' haircut, middle-part included. Some of Harry's chest tattoos are in the picture since he's currently shirtless and the grey sweatpants he has on ride low on his hips, teasing his v-line.

Harry's green eyes jump to the bottom of the screen. There's a poll and the question above it reads, 'Is it gay if you drunkenly marry a guy? Askin' for a friend'. However, instead of the two poll options being 'yes' and 'no', Niall changed them to 'yes' and 'obviously'.

"Take this shit down! So many hot girls follow you. I'm gonna lose my tap if you keep this shit up," Harry curses. Niall only laughs at Harry's anger and instead shrugs.

"It's just a joke dude, calm down. Besides, chicks dig feminine guys. You already have the soft, 'I'm-in-touch-with-my-feelings' thing down," Niall adds.

He has a point, Harry decides. Besides, he knows that Niall won't take it down no matter how much Harry asks him to. Instead, Harry decides to obsessively go through the replies to his tweet, hoping nobody thinks Harry's gay or anything.

@BigBussyBitch4 replied to @HarrySTheBest tweet:

_Best drunk story lmfao someone find this man's husband_

_Reply 9 retweets 467 likes_

@CasualKaitlyn replied to @HarrySTheBest tweet: 

_Sober thoughts are drunk actions but that's none of my business_ 🙊🙉🙈

_Reply 3 retweets 384 likes_

@Li_lo_and_Stitch replied to @HarrySTheBest tweet:

_This you? @LouisTommo2_

_Reply 19 retweets 875 likes_

@LouisTommo2 replied to @Li_lo_and_Stitch tweet:

👁️👄👁️ _wait a min_

_Reply 87 retweets 1.1k likes_

"Niall, Niall, get up," Harry says as he flails his arm in Niall's direction. He can't take his eyes off the phone as he stares at the tweet of the guy he might be married to. His username sounds similar enough and he looks to be the right age.

"What," Niall groans dramatically as he sits up.

"I think I found him," Harry replies hurriedly. In one leap, Niall's out of the bed and by Harry's side looking over his shoulder.

From behind, Niall reaches over and clicks on the person's profile. "Dude, don't touch my phone," Harry complains as he pulls the phone away from Niall's grasp. A part of him worries about what Niall might do if he gets a little too touchy with the guy's profile.

His account is average looking and his bio is simply 'breathing ig' with a British flag emoji next to it. Before Harry has the chance to look at the guy's latest tweets, his phone is plucked from his grasp.

It takes Harry a moment to recover and another to turn towards Niall, who stands on the bed. "What the fuck, Dickhead! Give me my fucking phone," Harry shouts as he angrily moves towards Niall who types eagerly, a hug smile planted across his face.

Harry climbs on the bed easily and reaches for Niall, but he's too slow. Niall leaps from the bed and lands loudly on the floor. His phone still in Niall's grasp, Harry chases after him, finally pinning him to the wall.

"Whoa, H, maybe you are a lil gay," Niall teases, their noses inches apart. Niall makes a kissy face in Harry's direction, but Harry jerks away from him quickly.

"Give me my phone back," Harry hisses angrily. Niall shrugs and wiggles his wrist. Harry glances up and snatches the phone from Niall's grip. He makes sure to take two large strides away from Niall before looking down at what he's done.

**HarrySTheBest:**

Heard you might be my hubby. Can't wait to hear back. Xoxo

_9/29/20, 6:37 PM_

"Niall I will murder you in your sleep," Harry growls as he glances down at the message. There's no way to delete it, so he'll just have to cover up Niall's shit he decides.

"Promise," Niall asks. Harry rolls his eyes as he types out a new message to Louis.

**HarrySTheBest:**

Sorry. My friend got my phone. Were you in Vegas yesterday?

_9/29/20, 6:39 PM_

Before Harry has the chance to click out of the app, he sees a message pop up under his.

**LouisTommo2:**

Lol ur all good

Yeah I was in vegas yesterday

I was pissed

I'm assuming this is abt that viral tweet

_9/29/20, 6:39 PM_

**HarrySTheBest:**

Yeah

_9/29/20, 6:40 PM_

**LouisTommo2:**

Well

Nice to finally meet my husband

So

Whats ur name again?

_9/29/20, 6:41 PM_

**HarrySTheBest:**

Harry Styles. You must be Louis Tomlinson.

_9/29/20, 6:41 PM_

**LouisTommo2:**

Thats my name dont wear it out

Correction

I think your name is

Harry Tomlinson

_9/29/20, 6:42 PM_

**HarrySTheBest:**

Haha. Very funny. When are you available to get a divorce?

_9/29/20, 6:42 PM_

**LouisTommo2:**

Divorce?

Wow.

Breaking up over text

I see how you are

Why don't you meet me first and then see if you still wanna get a divorce 😉

_9/29/20, 6:42 PM_

**HarrySTheBest:**

We can't break up if we were never together. Lets just get this over with. I'm on a bit of a time crunch

_9/29/20, 6:43 PM_

**LouisTommo2:**

No need for the sass mate

Besides

You must've thought I was fit if you married me to begin with

_9/29/20, 6:43 PM_

**HarrySTheBest:**

I'm straight.

_9/29/20, 6:44 PM_

**LouisTommo2:**

Thats why the socks stayed on

Coffee

Tomorrow

Sunset park

3 pm

_9/29/20, 6:44 PM_

**HarrySTheBest:**

Fine.

_9/_ _29/20, 6:44 PM_

**LouisTommo2:**

See you then

Hubs

Hubby

Hun

😘

_9/_ _29/20, 6:45 PM_

**HarrySTheBest**

🙄

_9/_ _29/20, 6:45 PM_


	4. You're Fit for a Bloke

The wind rustles the trees above Harry as he anxiously waits for 3 to roll around. Back home, the sun would be beating on the back of his neck, but grey clouds cover the sky leaving Harry with an unsatisfying layer of sweat without the benefit of a tan. The smell of September rain and the yellowing leaves is another reminder that Harry's favorite season is fast approaching. 

_"It's fine, dude, just take a breath,"_ Niall says. Harry reaches up to adjust the Airpod in his ear. 

He's not a pussy or anything, so he doesn't know why he's no nervous about meeting Louis. There has never been a time in his life that Harry's been nervous to meet anyone, but something about this feels different. This is, legally anyway, his husband. There was something about him that night that made Drunk Harry marry him. The idea that Drunk Harry would be willing to look at a guy, to begin with, is already too much for Harry to unpack. Now he has to meet the guy that stirred all this up.

"It's not fine. Stop saying it's fine," Harry hisses angrily. A young mom sitting at the playground a couple of paces away turns to give Harry a startled look. Embarrassed, Harry raises a hand and passes her a thin, awkward smile. 

"You would be freaking out too if you were in my position," Harry adds as he adjusts one of the rings on his fingers again. 

_"No, I wouldn't, because I would think it was hilarious. There's nothing to freak out about unless you decide there's something to freak out about. It's not gay if it's with the homies, remember,"_ Niall explains. Harry rolls his eyes. Of course, Niall would say that. He hasn't been labeled 'gay' his entire life. 

All through high school, Harry got 'gay' comments. Of course, he's not gay. There's nothing gay about him. He's always been a fan of girls and their bodies. There's nothing about a guy that's ever made Harry's head turn. Sure he's in touch with a bit of femininity, but that shouldn't make someone 'gay'. Besides, girls dig it when Harry wears nail polish. 

Harry's gaze falls on a silhouette just over the horizon. His stomach drops into his toes and he feels like he's going to vomit all at the same time. "Fuck, fuck, fuck I think that's him. Shit what the fuck do I do," Harry whisper-yells. 

_"Is he hot in person? He has to be if you married him right? He's definitely hot. What do you think he's packing,"_ Niall questions excitedly. 

"I'm not going to look at his dick _,_ Niall!"

Fuck, Harry's hands start shaking as the figure gets closer and closer. It's definitely Louis, Harry decides. He recognizes the boy's stature from his Twitter pictures and the easy-going way he walks fits the boy's personality over message. 

"I'm gonna go," Harry decides. He reaches for his phone and taps 'end call' before Niall can add anything else. 

For a moment, it seems like the sun peaks out from the clouds and shines on Louis as he fast approaches him. There's an easy-ness to the way that he walks over that makes Harry think that Louis must've done this a thousand times. A smile tugs it's way across Louis' thin lips as they make eye contact. Harry forces his gaze away from Louis' eyes as Louis lifts a hand to greet him.

Once he's in ear-shot, Louis happily cheers, "You're fit for a bloke!" Harry feels himself blush hard at the greeting. 

"You must be Louis," Harry says. He forces his hand in a fist to stop it from shaking as much. Usually, Harry doesn't have a problem greeting people. In fact, Harry loves meeting new people but something about Louis throws Harry off his game. Instead of being a social butterfly, Harry can't even seem to look Louis in the eye. 

"That'd be me. You must be Mr. Tomlinson," Louis replies easily. He throws Harry a wink as he sticks out a hand for Harry to shake. There's a sparkle in the other boy's blue eyes as Harry awkwardly takes his hand. 

"It's Styles, Harry Styles," Harry corrects. 

"We can discuss a hyphen," Louis teases. Harry's cheeks go red again and he's convinced that Louis' doing it on purpose. He absolutely hates that the smaller boy standing in front of him can so easily get under Harry's skin.

Harry tries to look everywhere but Louis' face. He recognizes the purple and yellow windbreaker that Louis wears from the photo and a memory sits just out of reach, teasing him. Something about lights and the jacket moving. Even if Harry focuses on the memory it seems to blink away from him before he can make any sense of it. 

"Checking me out," Louis jokes. Harry snaps back up to Louis' face, embarrassed he got caught. 

"So, uh, do you know anything about the divorce process," Harry questions as he awkwardly stuffs his hands into his jean pockets, not knowing what to do with them.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, take it easy, Love. Why don't we just sit down and have a chat first," Louis suggests. He gives Harry an easy smile and motions for them to sit on the bench Harry was sitting on earlier. Harry almost trips over his own feet as he does, but he quickly catches himself. 

Harry makes sure to sit as far away from Louis as possible, but Louis doesn't seem bothered with thinking about it too much. Instead, he leans back against the seat nonchalantly with one of his ankles resting on his knee. Louis' arm drapes itself across the back of the seat, his hand eerily close to Harry. 

"I'm Louis, 21, and obviously from England. 'M just here on a holiday because Americans know how to have a bit of fun. What about you," Louis questions. The relaxed nature Louis gives off puts Harry on edge. He's easy to talk to and if Harry wasn't feeling so weird, he could see them being good friends. 

"Um, I'm 19. I live in LA, actually, and I'm pre-med at USC," Harry explains robotically. He tries to put as much distance as he can between the two of them, emotionally and physically. 

"Pre-med? I thought I was going to be the sugar daddy, but I don't mind being Baby for you," Louis winks. Harry tenses as he feels a rush go through his body. Embarrassment floods him a moment later and he coughs awkwardly. 

"I'm just joking... I'm always Daddy," Louis says through a smirk. Harry flexes his hands, not knowing what else to do as Louis' fingers tap rhythmically against the green metal of the bench. 

"I'm straight," Harry blurts out. 

Louis uses his free hand to adjust his black skinny jeans. Harry's eyes watch as the man's hand flirts past his inner thigh, resting for a moment on his crotch before taking its position back on the armrest. He forces his gaze away from Louis all together and becomes fascinated with a bird sitting in a tree just behind Louis. 

"That makes two of us," Louis says. Shocked, Harry can't help but glance at Louis again. He's straight? The amount of casual flirting that Louis' done in the last couple of hours in-person and over text made Harry assume there was... something about him. 

"You're straight," Harry questions. 

"Don't sound too disappointed," Louis shoots back. 

Again, Harry feels his cheeks going red and he rolls his eyes to try and seem like he wasn't as flustered by Louis' comment as he really was. 

"I should go. My friend's waiting on me back at the hotel and I promised we could uh... go... to... go to the movies so uh... I have to go," Harry stammers. He brings a hand to the back of his neck and forces the other one in his pocket so he doesn't have to shake Louis' hand again. 

A look of disappointment seems to cross Louis' face for a moment, but he quickly tucks it away and throws Harry a smile. "That's alright, I've got a life-time," Louis winks. Harry purses his lips into a thin line and gives Louis an awkward nod before slowly turning his back and starting back towards his hotel. 


	5. Instagram Baddie

Harry couldn't be happier to be home. The apartment he shares with Niall is probably the cleanest it's been in months, meaning his father's been by. 

"What happened to the dust bunny behind the couch? She was just getting big again," Niall pouts. Harry doesn't hear a word Niall says, however, as he turns his attention to the note taped to the fridge in his father's formal handwriting. 

_This place is a mess. Do better. You owe the maid $180._

Frustrated, Harry tears the slip from the fridge and crumbles it up. He pushes as much anger into the motion as he can as he imagines squeezing his father into a tiny ball until he's so small and insignificant Harry never has to spare him another thought again. 

"Clean sheets," Niall cheers as he disappears into his room down the hall. Harry rolls his eyes as he lets the wad of paper fall to the ground. No matter how much Harry tries to distance his thoughts from his father, the vision of that man walking through his safe place sends a chill down his back. 

A notification pulls Harry from his thoughts. Sighing, he digs his phone out of his front pocket and frowns as he sees an Instagram notification from Louis.

_2:45 PM_

Louis_T

**Can you call me when you get home please**

Harry's eyes fall to the number printed at the bottom of the screen. Getting Louis' phone number makes this whole situation more personal than he'd like, but he knows there's no getting out of it. Louis will know that Harry saw the message and will spam Harry's phone until Harry calls him. No point avoiding the inevitable, Harry decides. 

Nervously, Harry taps the number into his phone and presses 'call'. A loud ring echoes through the AirPods in Harry's ear as he shoves his phone back in his pocket and heads for his own bedroom. 

_"I'm surprised you called,"_ Louis hums after the second ring. Harry sighs as he sets his duffel bag on the crisp white comforter on his bed. He can tell it's been washed recently, probably by the maid. 

"So uh... what did you want," Harry asks as he dumps the contents of his bag on the bed. A pile of mostly black clothes stares back at him and he sighs knowing he'll have to sort it all. A task for a different day he decides. 

_"Why can't I just want to talk to you? There always has to be a reason with you,"_ Louis teases. Harry blushes deeply and is a thousand times grateful that Louis can't see him. 

"About that, did you find out what we need to get divorced," Harry questions. He forces his voice into his business setting. A setting he discovered as a child from listening to endless hours of his father's business calls. The number of hours Harry would spend with his ear to the door of his father's at-home-office is embarrassing, to say the least. Not more embarrassing than the fact that every day he finds himself becoming more and more like the man. 

_"So the thing is,"_ Louis starts. Harry rolls his eyes as he collapses into his desk chair. It's simple and a little bit uncomfortable to sit in for an extended period of time. His mom has been annoying him about getting a better one, but Harry likes the old, annoying chair. 

"Louis," Harry grumbles. 

Louis doesn't pay Harry any mind as he continues what he was saying, _"I'm on a vacation visa, but I really like it here. I was hoping we can stay married long enough for me to get my student visa then we can divorce after that."_

Visas are among the many things Harry doesn't know shit about. Sure, he could tell you that when he goes on vacation to Greece he has to have a visa of some sort, but how his father gets them he has no idea. The process to get a visa shouldn't be that long considering the quick turnaround their family manages to get them in so maybe that's why Harry says yes. 

"I mean... fine whatever. Just until you get your visa and then it's over," Harry sighs. 

_"One more ask before I let you go. I know you live in LA and I wanted to run the idea by you before I did it, but I was considering going out there until I get everything sorted. I've never been to LA before and I've heard it's a pretty cool spot. I can, a hundred percent, get a hotel or somethin' but are you alright with that,"_ Louis questions. Harry frowns as he messes with a ring on his finger. 

Honestly, he doesn't know. He doesn't want Louis around but he can't stop Louis. LA is a big town with loads of people. There's no saying that they'll even run into each other if Harry makes an effort to keep his distance. 

"You can do whatever you want. I can't control you." Harry sighs as he continues, "Look I've got a ton of unpacking to do. Can you just DM me if we need to talk?" 

There's a pause on the other line as Louis seems to consider this. Harry's frown deepens as he waits for Louis' answer. Finally, after what seems like an eternity, Louis replies, _"Yeah sure mate."_

A breath of relief slips past Harry's lips as he mutters a quick 'goodbye' and hangs up. Harry pulls one of the AirPods out of his ears, relieved that the conversation is over. He doesn't know what about Louis gets him all riled up. Maybe it's how nonchalant he acts about the whole marriage thing. It's a serious deal and commitment but Louis doesn't seem to understand that. 

Frustrated and in need of some attention, Harry clicks on the upload button at the bottom of his Instagram page. He scrolls through some of the photos he took while in Vegas. Sighing, he decides on the photo Niall took of him in front of the Las Vegas sign, a photo that everyone seems to take when visiting. 

Harry doesn't spend nearly as much time editing the photo as he usually would and posts it with the caption 'What happens in Vegas'. It's an overused caption, but Harry doesn't care enough to try and come up with something witty to go with the picture. 

As soon as he posts it he already has a couple of likes and comments from various girls all complimenting him. He lets the post sit for a couple of minutes as he scrolls through his IG stories before switching back to read through the comments. 

**HayleighBayleigh: So cute 😍**

**Kendraaaa: 🙈**

**Niall_the_goatt: Yes daddy 😩👅🤤**

**JadeThirlwall: He strikes again **

**Louis_T: Instagram Baddie 😉**


	6. The Romeo to My Romeo

Harry's enjoying his first day off since he's returned from his vacation. The last couple of days have been filled with catching up on work for his college classes, but, thankfully, he's not too far behind, or else it would've just given his father one more thing to bitch about at their next family dinner. 

Some reality show plays in the background as Harry scrolls through his phone. The girls complaining on TV about their manicure makes good background noise for the ones doing TikTok dances on his fyp, Harry decides. 

His thumb presses the 'like' button as he sees a girl throw it back, but before he can go to the comments section he gets an incoming facetime call from Louis. Sighing, Harry presses 'accept' and watches as Louis' face takes over his screen. 

"What now," Harry sighs. 

Louis appears to be sitting on a balcony. He can't exactly work out Louis' exact location, but Harry can tell he's outside. The wind ruffles his, already, feathery brown hair and he can hear the light howl of the wind through his Airpods. Thankfully, white earbuds sit in Louis' ear too, blocking out the disruptive breeze and the busy streets. Harry notices a sparkle in Louis' blue eyes, presumably from the sun. Quickly, Harry tears his attention away from the screen and glances down at his own lap. 

_"I don't appreciate the attitude. I've called to tell my handsome husband good afternoon, as I've slept in all morning and missed the 'good morning' message. To make up for my tardiness, I decided a facetime call would be in order. Now, let's start again,"_ Louis replies curtly. Harry rolls his eyes as Louis, dramatically, clears his throat. 

He continues, _"Good afternoon Harry, the love of my life, my rock, the Romeo to my Romeo."_

"Alright, alright, I get it," Harry says, cutting Louis off. Green eyes watch as Louis' thin lips pucker up, and throw him a kiss. Startled, Harry furrows his eyebrows and rolls his eyes, but he isn't able to tuck away the smile that rests on the edges of his lips. As annoying and over-the-top Louis can be, Harry appreciates the consistency. 

_"So, what are you up to then, mate,"_ Louis questions. Harry watches as the scenery shifts and the camera jumps in Louis' hand a little bit as Louis moves back inside the hotel room. 

"I'm just watching TikTok and sitting on my couch. Why," Harry replies. Louis glitches on the other end for a second and there's a giant blur on the screen as Louis moves around. The sight nearly gives Harry a headache, but it stops after a minute and Louis appears in a car. 

_"Sorry, I've got to get some shopping done. I don't know anyone here, how sad and depressing my life is. If only there was someone I knew that I could talk to and spend time with. Alas, here I am, alone in a city... alone,"_ Louis pouts as he sets the camera up. Harry's eyes are glued to Louis as a smile lights up his face. 

Harry watches, mesmerized, as Louis puts the car in reverse. For a second, Harry's fixated on Louis as he stretches to look behind him as he backs up. His eyes flick to the bottom of Louis' shirt that rises up and exposes a little bit of golden skin. Just as Louis starts to turn back towards the camera, Harry turns his attention to a spot on his apartment wall. 

"Sounds like you have a lot of time to work on getting that visa squared away," Harry sighs, trying to turn the attention away from them being together. 

_"Come on, Harry, would it be that bad if I stayed for a little bit? We could get into loads of trouble. Besides, I still haven't been to LA and I heard the birds there are mad,"_ Louis says in a sing-song voice. 

"I don't think the birds are angry? They're just pigeons."

Louis breaks out into a fit of laughter as he drives. Sun shines in through the sunroof of the car, lighting up Louis' smile and eyes. Harry shakes his head, a cloud of anger falling over him as he realizes that Louis' laughing at him. 

"If you're gonna laugh at me I'm going to hang up," Harry threatens. Louis' laughter echoes through the car and speakers, filling up Harry's ears with the sound of a laugh. The only emotion that Harry can produce, however, is anger. 

Just as Harry's thumb hovers over the 'end call' button, Louis' laughter dies down enough for him to speak, _"Birds are girls, Harry. I don't mean actual birds. It's slang. 'Mad' doesn't mean angry either, mad like hot."_

"I don't understand," Harry continues, utterly confused over what Louis' trying to say. 

Louis straightens up, his eyes glancing from the road to the camera. _"The girls are hot,"_ Louis explains in an overly-American accent. The words are like knives to Harry's ear. 

"You didn't have to do that. Your American accent is ass," Harry comments, a trace of bitterness on his tongue. 

_"You're ass,"_ Louis shoots back. Harry rolls his eyes at Louis' childishness. _"Honestly though, are you going to let me come see you in LA,"_ Louis questions as he steps out of his car. He holds the camera high and gives Harry a big grin as he runs a hand through his hair, the sun casting a warm glow against his cheeks. 

Harry considers this thought for a moment. Los Angeles is a big town with loads of people. There's no guarantee anything has to happen at all if Louis comes to town. He can't force Harry's address out of him, so it's not like he even has to know where Harry lives if Harry doesn't want him to. 

Sighing, Harry decides, "Whatever, fine." 

Harry watches as Louis slides into the car. _"Looks like I have a drive to make,"_ Louis says happily right before the call ends. 


	7. Sensitive is Code for Asshole

Louis' words play over in Harry's head as he sits at his desk later that night. The sun has gone down and, with it, Harry's guard. Something about the cover of darkness allows Harry's mind to wander into places it wouldn't dare go while the sun shines outside. The moonlight, pouring in through windows overlooking the Los Angeles skyline, seems to promise Harry that wherever his mind disappears to will stay a secret between the two of them. 

Louis' coming. It's a fact that Harry can no longer put off, even though he's tried all day. Their call earlier confirms it. The desk chair creaks in protest as Harry shifts his weight anxiously. His laptop sits open along with a blank word document. Sighing, Harry stands, his fingers playing with the end of his boxers. 

Harry walks over to the window, finding comfort in the view. He counts to three in his head, breathing in for three beats and then exhaling for three more. A blue and purple haze glows from around the city, alive with people. Harry forces his mind to consider his own insignificance in the grand scheme of it all instead of the looming thought of Louis being here. 

Millions of people live their lives below Harry, most of whom Harry hasn't met and will never meet. Louis being in town won't change that. He'll be another fish in the sea of crowded people. A familiar fish, maybe, but what are the odds that Harry may even cross paths with him if Harry tries not to? It's easy to stay anonymous in a city as large as LA. 

The thought doesn't ease Harry's growing anxiety. Louis being here threatens everything Harry's built. If his father catches wind of it, Harry's life will come crumbling down in a matter of seconds. He already disapproves of Harry enough as it, adding on a drunken marriage, to a guy nonetheless, is the last thing Harry needs. 

Harry jumps as the door of his room door being thrown open. Niall stands in the doorway, his bleached hair stands up as he lazily rubs at one of his eyes. "Door," Niall yawns as he disappears a moment later. 

"Why can't you get it," Harry calls as he follows Niall out of his room. Wordlessly, Niall disappears back into his own room, loudly closing the door behind him. Grumbling, Harry makes his way through their apartment and flipping the light switch in the living room so he can see. 

His eyes find the large clock that sits on the back wall of their open dining room. Most of the time Harry forgets it's there, but he's grateful for it now. It reads half-past ten, not terribly late, but late enough for a visitor to be uncommon. 

A loud knock echoes through the living room as the person grows impatient. "Coming, Jesus," Harry shouts as he makes his way towards the door, slower now that the person decided to have an attitude about it. 

When he opens the door, Harry's surprised at who stands in it. Their tanned complexion glows more than Harry remembers last time. A light blush coats the person's cheeks, probably from climbing the four flights of stairs it takes to get up to Harry's apartment. 

"What're you doing here," Harry asks, as his eyes rake over the person's small frame. 

"What am I doing here? That's all you have to say for yourself," The person says back, their tone filled with bitterness. 

It takes longer than Harry would like to admit for him to remember the girl's name. He recognizes her easily enough, it's hard for him to forget her body after all. A couple of memories flash through his head from a couple of weeks ago. Her golden complexion against his and the flush in her cheeks from something entirely different from a trip up the stairs. 

"I mean, I'm not complaining. We could always go for round five... or six. I can't quite remember what we were on," Harry teases. Her brown eyes shoot like lasers into Harry, but despite her obvious anger, Harry can only find the look to be incredibly hot. 

"You said you were going to message me when you got back from Vegas, so imagine my surprise when I get a snap from Jesy telling me that she saw Leigh-Anne was on snap-map with Niall at the library," Jade shouts hurriedly. Half the words she says don't process through Harry's mind at all. 

"Well, I'm back, baby girl. It's not that late... I could make it up to you," Harry suggests, his eyes slowly trailing down her body as he remembers their last night together. 

"Fuck no! You know what, I should've listened to Leigh. Guess I'm just another girl to add to your list, huh? Well, you're just another guy on mine too, Harry! Oh, and you should probably remove 'sensitive' from your Tinder bio, at this point, 'sensitive' is just code for 'asshole'," Jade screams. 

Jade's voice echoes through the hall of the apartment and Harry cringes. It's late and, surely, everyone on the floor will be able to hear her. Before Harry has the chance to try and get her to stop screaming so loudly, someone else appears at the end of the hall. 

"Might want to quiet down, I can hear you halfway down the stairs," The boy jokes. Harry's stomach drops as he sees Louis standing in the hallway of his apartment building with a duffel bag thrown over his shoulder. 

Jade turns around, her arms folded across her chest and an angry scowl etched into her face. "And who are you," She questions bitterly. 

Louis stops as if he'd been slapped. A cloud of tension fills the space between the three of them as Louis and Jade glare at each other. "Louis Tomlinson, who the fuck are you," Louis snaps back.

"Jade. Can't you see we're in the middle of something," Jade replies already turning back around to look at Harry. Harry can do nothing but watch as the duffle bag drops from Louis' shoulder. In a couple of short, sure steps, Louis is by Harry's side. 

The situation, however, goes from bad to worse as Louis says, "Well if you have something to say to my husband, you can say to me, bitch." 


	8. Signore

"Well if you have something to say to my husband, you can say it to me, bitch," Louis spits. A look of shock crosses Jade's face, obviously not expecting any of the words that come out of Louis' mouth.

Harry watches in stunned silence as the situation occurs. He's a third party, watching a train wreck happen and seemingly unable to do anything about it. Realistically, he knows he can, but it feels impossible to speak or move.

"Husband? You know what, I don't have time for this," Jade huffs as she crosses her arms across her chest. She turns to Harry and stares him down, hate and hurt burned into her gaze. "You had a small dick anyway. Don't snap me."

Before Harry has the chance to rebuttal her obviously and completely false claim, she turns and marches down the stairs.

"Well, what did you do to piss her off," Louis questions as soon as Jade is out of earshot. Before Harry can answer, Niall appears next to him. He rubs at his eyes lazily as he looks between Harry and Louis.

"What're you doing here," Niall asks. Louis' blue eyes fall on Harry for a moment before darting back to Niall.

"My hotel isn't ready yet, so I was wondering if I could spend the night here," Louis explains simply.

Harry glances at Niall, begging for him to understand that Harry doesn't want Louis here. Niall, in his half-sleep state, doesn't return the gaze and instead shrugs, opening the door wide enough to let in Louis.

Niall follows Louis into the apartment, almost closing the door in Harry's face. Harry catches it just in time and rushes in after Louis. "Fuck, I- actually," Harry says as he tries to get Louis' attention. Louis ignores Harry's protest and continues into the foyer.

Most people who step into Harry and Niall's apartment are stunned, but Louis doesn't seem to give it a second look as he allows the duffle to fall from his shoulder. Harry's offended for a second that Louis doesn't even seem mildly impressed by the room he's in. What kind of 19-year-old college student has an apartment this grand? None, Harry will tell you that much. Louis doesn't seem fazed by the real hard-wood floors, floor-to-ceiling windows, or the grand chandelier over their formal dining table.

"Do you have anything to eat? I didn't get the chance to eat on the road," Louis asks simply as he turns back to look at Harry. Harry makes eye contact with Niall who sits at the island of their kitchen, his head resting on their marble countertops.

"Well, actually I think it'd best if you-," Harry starts.

Niall interjects, "Fridge is all yours."

Harry purses his lips as the words slip past Niall. A huff escapes Harry as Niall stands and heads back to his room, leaving Harry with Louis. Politely, Louis picks his duffle bag up and sets it against the island so it's not in the middle of the floor before making his way behind the kitchen.

"We don't have a whole lot. It's probably best if you order take-out or something," Harry suggests as he follows Louis into the kitchen. He doesn't know why, but Harry feels a sudden burst of insecurity blossom in his stomach as Louis walks around the kitchen. Green eyes fall on the countertops to make sure they're not any stains or that there aren't spots on the fridge. He prays that it's organized and that Niall hasn't left anything embarrassing in it either.

"I don't do take-out. Do you mind," Louis questions as he gestures towards the fridge. Harry awkwardly nods and opens the door for Louis to peer into. He stands behind Louis, hoping to catch anything embarrassing before Louis does.

Most of the fridge's contents are bags of take-out, courtesy of Niall. There're some energy drinks shoved in the corner along with some various cans of beer (that Harry _definitely_ didn't pay someone to buy for him because he's underage). Harry watches as Louis opens the produce drawer and closes it after he finds it's filled with a huge bottle of ranch, again courtesy of Niall.

Louis turns to look at Harry and, for the first time, Harry notices their height difference. It's not much, maybe two or three inches at most. Harry also didn't realize how close he's standing to Louis. If Harry were to bend his knees a little bit their noses would touch. Louis doesn't seem bothered by their proximity at all as he looks at Harry.

"Did you hear me," Louis says. Harry shakes his head, his heart pounding in his chest as he takes a step back.

"Uh, sorry. What did you say," Harry mumbles, as he leans against the opposite counter. His fingers pat a rhythm against the countertops as he tries to ease the shaking in his hands.

"Do you have a pantry," Louis asks. Harry nods and motions towards the pantry built into the wall. He walks over and opens it for Louis.

Harry's green eyes fall on Louis as Louis looks around the pantry. He shifts his attention the other way when Louis turns around. "Do you mind if I make some spaghetti? Nothing fancy. There're some noodles and a can of tomato sauce. I think I remember seeing some meatballs in the fridge too. I can cook us up something easy enough," Louis explains.

As much as Harry doesn't want Louis in the kitchen or anywhere near him, the thought of a homecooked meal, even one as simple as spaghetti and meatballs, makes his stomach rumble. "Uh, yeah, I guess that's alright," Harry replies.

A smile tugs its way across Louis' lips as he goes back to the fridge to pull out a bag of frozen meatballs. Honestly, Harry didn't even remember buying the bag. It must've been another buy courtesy of Niall, he decides.

Louis straightens up and pretends to tighten a tie. "Signore," Louis says through a dramatic Italian accent, "Have a seat, Bellissimo, and let me cook you some spaghetti." 


	9. Spaghetti and Balls

Harry watches as Louis breaks open the bag of spaghetti noodles. "Let's see... I'll need a pot, a pan, and your spice rack," Louis announces as he turns towards Harry. Wordlessly, Harry grabs the pot and a pan from their rack and passes them to Louis.

"Alright, let's get this started then. How hungry are you," Louis questions. Harry considers this before shrugging.

"Whatever, I'll eat some," He decides. Louis nods as he fills the pot with water. One of Harry's favorite features of his apartment, besides the waterfall shower, is the water attachment by their stove so they can fill pots with water without having to travel to the sink.

"You didn't answer my question, but I'll make enough for leftovers. Looks like you need some real food around here," Louis decides. Harry doesn't take his statement personally. It's true after all, they don't eat anything except takeout.

Harry slides into the chair by the island as Louis starts the pot of water. He watches carefully as Louis dumps the contents of the tomato sauce into the pan along with the meatballs. Louis seems like a natural in the kitchen, Harry decides. Louis reminds him of their old cook, Janet.

"How did you get so good at cooking," Harry questions. He doesn't know where the question comes from, but it's too late. Cooking is one of the things Harry never got to learn. He should, after all, it's a basic necessity, but they always had chefs around the house so there wasn't a need. Now that he's on his own, maybe he should invest in the skill.

Carefully, Harry stands and moves a little closer to Louis to watch his movements. "This isn't really cooking. Real cooking would be homemade pasta and sauce, but I don't have time for that. One day I'll show you how," Louis promises with a genuine smile. Harry bites his lips and looks away. He doesn't want Louis to stay around long enough to make him homemade pasta or spaghetti sauce.

"But like, where did you learn how to do this stuff," Harry asks nonchalantly. He runs a hand through his hair as he leans against the counter in an attempt to look unbothered as if he doesn't really care if he hears the answer or not.

"How did I learn to boil water," Louis questions through a laugh. Harry's cheeks glow pink with embarrassment and he finds himself drawing back. Louis' blue eyes seem to rest on Harry for a moment before he turns back to the stove.

"My dad," Louis starts. "He worked a lot and he wanted me to be able to make something for dinner so I wasn't hungry."

"We had a chef," Harry announces a little too loudly. He realizes how loudly he spoke and clears his throat before continuing. "We had a chef," He says a little quieter this time. "Her name was Janet. My dad fired her when I was 16. I was on this strict diet for Polo, but I wanted some cake for my birthday because it was my birthday, you know? Dad said no, but Janet snuck me some that night. She spent all day making it and trying to keep it a secret from my dad. He found out and fired her for it anyway."

Louis doesn't say anything for a moment and Harry realizes he's done it again. He's said too much and scared him off. One would think he'd learn after a while, but once Harry starts talking he doesn't stop and then he looks dumb.

"Sorry," Harry sighs as he takes his seat again at the island.

Louis doesn't say anything as combines the noodles and sauce together. Harry curses under his breath as Louis walks over with two plates in his hand. He slides one over to Harry and offers him a small smile.

"Eat up, Bellissimo," Louis says as he takes the seat next to Harry.

Harry stands to grab silverware from one of his drawers. He places a fork in front of Louis and sees the boy's lips pulled into a tight frown. "My dad passed," Louis admits.

Harry stops and looks at Louis, not wanting to disrupt the moment. Louis stares hard at his plate, his blue eyes seemingly glaring at the pasta on his plate. "I'm sorry," Harry whispers.

"He used to take me to Italy and France with him all the time before he died. I, uh, this is my first holiday without him actually," Louis explains. Harry slowly moves to his chair, worried that if he moves too fast or too suddenly he'll startle Louis.

"Must be hard," Harry sighs. He has no clue what to say or how to console Louis. Harry was never good with emotions, emotions besides anger and lust, anyway.

"It's fine, I- uh. I don't know why I told you that actually," Louis says as he glances up from his pasta, the spell broken. He throws Harry a half-assed smile as he sniffles a bit. "So, you and Niall seem close."

"Yeah, he's my best friend. We kinda grew up together," Harry explains. He takes his fork and stirs some pasta around it.

"Must be nice to have a mate like that," Louis sighs as he takes a bite of his food. Harry watches as the red sauce stains a bit of the corner of Louis' lips.

"Sometimes it is, sometimes it isn't. Did you not have many friends growing up," Harry asks. He brings the fork to his mouth and takes a bite of his food. It's good, better than anything Harry could've done anyway. Even for frozen and jarred sauce, Harry decides.

"Not really. I worked mostly on hobbies and stuff. Got really into footie, and my dad was making me learn Italian and French, so that took up most of my time," Louis shrugs. Harry nods as he takes another bite.

"My dad put me in Polo as a kid because I was ass at golf. Mom tried getting me into piano for a couple of years too, but Dad didn't like it so he pulled me out. He said 'music is for sissys' so I stopped," Harry explains.

Harry glances down at Louis' plate and finds that the other man is already done eating. "Uh, you can sleep on the couch if you need to. I can grab some blankets and stuff," Harry says.

"Yeah that'll work alright," Louis replies as he stands. Harry turns and Louis offers him a small smile.

"I'll be back then," Harry says softly. He brushes past Louis as he exits the kitchen to grab a spare blanket and pillow.

When he returns with the items in hand, he finds Louis in pair of grey sweatpants with a black shirt. He must've changed while Harry stepped away. Awkwardly, Harry passes the items to Louis.

"Alright, if you need anything my bedroom is on the left," Harry says as he points towards his bedroom door. Louis gives him a small nod.

They stare at each other for a moment. Harry doesn't know what to say next and decides there's nothing else _to_ say. "Well, uh, goodnight," Harry mumbles as he starts towards his room.

"Dormi bene, piccolo," Louis whispers 


	10. Fuckin' Avocados

Harry shifts in his bed as he feels himself slowly waking up. The sun shines low in the sky, and Harry curses under his breath. Why does he always do this? 

"Fuck," Harry groans as he throws the blanket off his body. A wave of cold air chills him for a moment, but he adjusts quickly. Sighing, he slips a pair of shorts over his bare thighs and frowns as he slides out of bed. 

For a moment, Harry forgets the events of last night as he makes his way into the living room. Louis sleeps soundly on the couch in a mess of blankets and pillows strewn across the floor. Harry watches him for a moment, mesmerized almost by the sleeping boy. 

His shirt has been abandoned somewhere and the golden and pink hues of the sunrise hit his back as Louis sleeps soundly. His hair is in a messy halo around his head and a soft purr escapes him. 

Harry rubs his eyes before turning towards the kitchen. Right. A parmesan shaker sits on the island and sprinkles of cheese outline where they were sitting the night before. Two dirty pans sit on the stove and the sink is filled with dishes. 

Sighing, Harry walks over to assess the mess. Harry glances over his shoulder to the sleeping Louis, determined to stay silent in his attempt to do the dishes as to not wake him. It takes way too long for Harry to transfer the dishes to the washer he decides, but it's worth not having to do them after his morning class. 

Class. Harry curses under his breath as he glances at the time. He should have enough time to eat before then and study some. It's been, admittedly, a little long since Harry's looked at his chemistry notes. 

Harry walks over to the fridge and pulls out his Tupperware filled with mashed avocado. His usual breakfast is avocado and toast with a coffee, the perfect start to the day in Harry's opinion. Although on days where he doesn't have class he likes to get in a morning jog; that's out of the question for today he decides. 

He takes another look at Louis, wondering if he has any plans for the day. Surely his hotel will be ready sometime soon. It would be in bad taste for Harry to let Louis sleep in too late. He doesn't want Louis to miss anything after all. 

Harry decides, first, on making some breakfast for the two of them. It's the polite thing to do. That way, the meal from last night has no strings attached. Louis cooked for Harry and Harry is simply returning the favor. No more owing each other anything. 

Tiredly, Harry pulls open the drawer designated for K-Cups. Their Keurig coffee machine was Harry's best purchase. He thumbs over the different options, trying to decide what kind of coffee he'd like and what Louis might like as well. 

Green eyes spare Louis another glance before pulling out a dark roast. It's basic and timeless, Harry decides. If Louis doesn't like it, Niall won't say no to a cup of coffee. For himself, Harry finds himself gravitating towards the seasonal pods, this month for Starbucks 'Pumpkin Spice'. 

He starts the machine and loads up Louis' K-Cup as he grabs the bread for avocado toast. Niall gives Harry shit for it, but Trader Joe's pancake bread with mashed avocado beats anything else Harry's tried. He doesn't mind going out of his way to have the bread every morning. 

Harry slides the pieces of toast into their toaster as he prepares his own cup of coffee. He pulls out the sugar and cream, in case Louis wants some, as well. While he waits, Harry takes out two white ceramic plates and sets the table for breakfast. 

A smile spreads across Harry's lips as he looks at the table. Light green avocado sits on brown, crispy toast. The smell of warm, bitter coffee fills the air as the sun rises higher in the sky. The light hits the table in a picturesque way, Harry decides. He couldn't have done better if he tried. 

Harry steps over to Louis, who hums gently. A hand tentatively moves to Louis' back, gently trying to wake him up. When Louis doesn't stir, Harry tries again harder, this time resting his entire hand against Louis' bare shoulder. 

"Louis," Harry whispers quietly. Louis lets out a little huff as he turns towards Harry. A frown pulls itself across Louis' lips as his eyes slowly open. 

"Hmm," Louis groans. He pulls a blanket up around his shoulders and head as he opens his eyes more and more. The sight reminds Harry of a child not wanting to wake up for school. 

"It's morning," Harry sighs. He forces his eyes away. He can't allow himself to get attached to Louis. Hopefully, he'll be gone today anyway and this whole ordeal can be put behind them. 

"Yeah, I can tell," Louis replies back bitterly. Harry walks back to the island and clears his throat. 

"Well, I made breakfast. You're welcome to join me if you'd like," Harry coughs. He slides into his chair, trying to seem like he doesn't care if Louis joins him either way. Indifferent. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry sees Louis stretch and slowly stands. Harry focuses his attention on his toast and the bubbles forming on the edge of his coffee instead of Louis as he waddles over. 

Harry doesn't look up as Louis slides in front of him. "Sugar," Louis asks. Harry nods, not meeting his eyes as he stands to grab the sugar he got out earlier. When he turns back he sees the avocado piled on the far side of Louis' plate. 

"What're you doing," Harry questions as he finally allows himself to glance up at Louis' face. 

An apologetic look washes over Louis and his shoulders sag as he replies, "I'm thankful for the breakfast, Hazza, but I really hate fuckin' avocados." 

"My name's Harry and... it's fine," Harry says as he places the sugar container in front of Louis. "I actually have a lecture in about 15 minutes, so I should be going anyway," He lies. Harry's lecture isn't for another hour, but being with Louis is almost too much to handle. 

Louis looks disappointed for a minute at Harry's news but recovers quickly. "Alright, uh... have fun I guess." Harry nods, deciding he'll finish his coffee on the way to the library near his lecture hall. 

Anything so he doesn't have to be in this apartment with him. 


	11. We Have Chemistry

The professor's voice is mind-numbing background noise for Harry as he doodles in his notebook. She goes on about the organic composition of something Harry missed the name of, but he's not really concerned. It'll be in the textbook that Harry, admittedly, probably won't look at until the day before the exam. He'll still manage to pass though, he always does. 

After adding the finishing touches to his flying schoolbus drawing, he takes to glancing around the lecture hall. Harry's pencil taps quietly against his desk as his eyes scan the various students, all around his age.

His eyes fall on the girl sitting next to him. In all honesty, he doesn't remember ever seeing her before, but that's to be expected. It's not like Harry picks the same desk every lecture anyway. He gets angry looks about it, but he can't be bothered to try and remember what desk he sat at last time. 

The girl is pretty in a conventional way, Harry decides. Blond hair curls around into a bun and wavy bangs cover her forehead. Her skin is milky white with little dots of freckles on her arms. Harry stretches a bit to glance over at her paper and finds that it's filled with colorful notes and highlights. 

He moves back to his own desk and sneakily removes his phone from the pocket of his grey sweats. Green eyes glance up at the professor again, knowing he won't get caught. Despite the strict no-phone policy the professor attempts to implement, Harry's spent most of his lectures scrolling through Snapchat stories.

Quietly, Harry pushes his phone onto the girl's desk. She doesn't notice it until Harry gently nudges her knee with his own. The girl turns to him, her big blue eyes staring at him in a puzzled fashion. Harry shifts his eyes to the phone and shoots her a lopsided smirk. 

Harry listens to her mumble the words written on the 'notes' app quietly to herself. The girl looks back up at Harry when she finishes reading it with a light blush coating her cheeks. He glances at her lips and then slowly back up to her eyes while he smirks teasingly. The look has never failed him and he's positive it won't start today. 

He nods his head towards his phone, silently encouraging her to respond in the app. She blushes harder and thinks for a moment before she starts typing. The girl, while pretty enough, obviously hasn't been hit on too many times by guys like Harry. He's a little out of her league, he decides, but he doesn't mind hitting low every now and again. 

"Here," She whispers as she passes the phone to Harry under her desk. Harry accepts it and reads the app. 

_Ur cute. Y don't I know u? I'm Harry btw_

_Probably Bc ur never in class lol. I'm Taylor._

Taylor, fun name. Definitely not from around here though. Harry hasn't met a single pretty 'Taylor' from California. 

_Ur right_ 😂 _class is boring. Maybe I'll show up now that Ik ur here ;)_

Harry passes it to her again but just as he does the professor's voice catches Harry's attention. "Alright, make sure to do your readings for today and I'll see you next week. You're dismissed."

Everyone around Harry stands and starts putting their things away. Taylor gently places Harry's phone back on her desk as she starts to put her pens and highlighters back in her bag. 

Quietly, Harry closes his notebook and stands. He adjusts the fitted sweatpants he's wearing a little bit and runs a hand through his hair as he takes a spot in front of Taylor's desk. 

"What's your major," Taylor asks through a blush once she organizes her things. 

"Pre-Med, you?" 

Taylor stands, shouldering her backpack. She stands taller than Harry expected, but, unlike some guys, Harry's not threatened by it. He takes a moment to give her a more detailed look now that she's standing in front of him.

She's well kept, that's a good start. Her face is clear and there's a nice shine to her lips from a pinkish gloss. Now that she's standing he sees the anchor stitched on her white and gold sweater and he recognizes it as Delta Gamma. 

"I'm Pre-Med too," Taylor cheers. A DG girl studying pre-med? Interesting. Most of the girls he's met from the Delta Gamma sorority study nursing or education, but none of the ones Harry's met have been ballsy enough to study pre-med.

"A DG girl who's actually here for an education and not a ring? Thought I'd never see the day," Harry teases, his voice taking on a flirtatious tone. Another blush coats Taylor's cheeks. 

"Not all of them are here to get married," Taylor giggles. Harry watches her body language carefully, she's a little reserved and holds her textbook close to her chest nervously. 

"You're right, most of 'em are just here for a little fun. What about you? Are you just here for a little fun," Harry questions as he takes a step closer towards her. He nods his head towards the door and, slowly, they start that way. 

"I'm not a girl who sleeps around if that's what you're asking," Taylor explains. Harry notes that. A part of him wants to be offended that that's where her mind immediately went to, but another one reminds him that that was exactly what he was implying. 

"Hey! I said nothing about sleeping around. I just asked if you were into having a little fun," Harry replies teasingly. "There're lots of different ways to have fun around here." 

Taylor thinks about this for a moment before responding, "Well, I can be fun." Harry stops and leans against the wall outside the class lazily. 

"As much fun as I'd like to have, I'd also like to pass. How about you come back to my apartment and help me figure this shit out," Harry suggests. He gives her a pleading look, hoping he's played his cards right. If he's right then she should be an easy bag... and bang. 

"I don't know," Taylor sighs as she glances towards the floor. 

"I'll owe you one if you do and I _always_ deliver," Harry says. 

He watches as Taylor contemplates this. Even though their conversation has been short, Harry's already figured the girl out. He knows what her decision will be before she does. Maybe Harry should've gone into psychology instead of pre-med. 

"Fine, but only to study." 


	12. Blondie

Harry fumbles with the lock of his apartment as Taylor stands behind him. He shifts his gaze towards her before opening the door and letting both of them in. He stops as he sees Louis sitting on the couch in his living room. 

"Good you're... oh, hey Blondie," Louis says as he glances up at the pair as they walk through the door. Louis' blue eyes glance between the two of them as they stand in the doorway and, for a moment, Harry feels embarrassed. He didn't expect Louis to be here and he didn't expect him to see Taylor. Louis' blue eyes momentarily hold a look of betrayal as he looks between them. 

"Who is this," Taylor asks as she smiles at them warmly. Louis gives Harry an awkward look before scratching the back of his neck. 

Harry doesn't know what to say and decides an introduction would be best. "This is... Louis, my friend," Harry introduces. 

Taylor reaches a hand out for Louis to shake. Louis takes three sure steps so he can take Taylor's hand in his own. The moment of awkwardness passes easily as Taylor and Louis shake hands. 

"Well I should be going I guess.. looks like you two have plans," Louis says to Harry. Taylor seems to notice the shift in the room but she doesn't say anything about it, which Harry is grateful for.

A look crosses Louis' face as he grabs the last of his things and exits the apartment in a rush. He doesn't acknowledge Harry as he leaves, but Harry tries not to think about it too much. He promises himself he'll text Louis later and explain that he didn't realize that he would be at the apartment and that Taylor was just a friend. 

"So, studying... what do you need help with," Taylor asks as she looks back at Harry. He's thankful she's decided not to comment on Louis' hurried exit. Harry sighs, letting his backpack drop to the floor as he gives her a warm smile. 

"I don't know honestly, I've missed the last couple of classes. Maybe just a refresher or something." 

Harry gestures for the two of them to go sit at the island. Taylor takes her seat first, and Harry takes the opportunity to give her a look. Originally, he wanted to bring Taylor home so they could sleep together, but now the idea seems so foreign and alien he feels a blush of shame even thinking it. 

He didn't realize how beautiful she was in class, but over the walk back to his apartment and watching as she takes her pens and highlighters from her backpack, he realizes she has a natural grace about her. It's something that he doesn't see a lot anymore. 

"So, the chapter 3 notes are really kind of easy. We talked about it last lecture, but I have it here if you want to take a look at it. If you need any help over anything just ask," Taylor explains. 

~_~_~

Later that evening, after Taylor left, Harry finds himself sitting in his kitchen. He's shirtless and a bowl of salad sits untouched in front of him. He can't bring himself to eat it and he doesn't know where his appetite went, but he doesn't mind much. He could do to lose a couple of pounds, he decides. 

Admittedly, Harry enjoyed talking to Taylor more than he thought he would. It was a first for him to spend time with a girl without having any ulterior motives or other intentions in mind, but he kind of enjoyed himself, he decides. He even got some work done, which is surprising. He didn't think he would, but now he's ahead on next week's readings and homework thanks to Taylor. 

Sighing, Harry pulls out his phone and opens his Instagram messages. Louis' sits at the top of the screen and he knows he should probably say something, anything really. He knows he probably hurt Louis a bit, but he doesn't owe Louis anything. They're barely friends, but, for some reason, Harry still feels a pang of guilt over the whole thing. 

Huffing, he types out a message.

_10:13 PM_

HarrySTheBest:

**Come and hang?**

He doesn't expect Louis to respond immediately, so he locks his phone and sets it to the side. He decides to start his salad again, willing himself to find the motivation to pick up the fork and take a bite. A cherry tomato stares back at him, but his appetite still sits far out of reach. Just as Harry starts to stand and head back to his room, Niall walks out. 

A white shirt covers his chest and light gray sweatpants cover the bottom half as he joins Harry in the kitchen. 

"You look cheery," Harry comments as Niall walks to the fridge. He opens it, his eyes shifting through the refrigerator to find something to eat. Harry guesses his search comes up unsuccessful as Niall closes the fridge door and join Harry at the island. 

"You know what, I am, thanks for asking. You gonna eat that," Niall says as he gestures towards Harry's uneaten salad. Harry shakes his head and pushes the bowl towards Niall who accepts it happily. 

"So I was thinking," Niall starts.

"Oh no."

"Shut up, okay! I was thinking something good this time," Niall says. "So you know how the Halloween party is coming up and we have to have costumes and everything?"

"Yeah, that's kind of how Halloween works, Niall." 

"Shut up bro, anyway, I was thinking that we could go as Willy Wonka and the Once Ler. You could be Willy Wonka and I'll be the Once Ler. It could be such a cool best friend's costume idea because, you know, it's kinda blowing up on TikTok right now. We would do the cool, sexy, hot version though and all the chicks will dig it."

"I don't think I have any idea what you're talking about," Harry admits. 

"You're not on Willy Wonka Tiktok?"

"Why would I be on Willy Wonka TikTok when there're hot girls dancing in bikinis," Harry asks pointedly. Niall seems to consider this for a moment. 

"Fairpoint I guess. I'll send you who I'm talking about so you can start getting your costume together. This is going to be so awesome," Niall cheers. He takes a bite of the salad, stands, but stops and gives Harry one last thoughtful look. 

"You know what, you're a good friend." Harry rolls his eyes as Niall takes another bite of Harry's salad. "No, no, I'm serious. You're like a really good friend."

"What do you want," Harry sighs, knowing that Niall wouldn't compliment Harry out of the blue for no reason. Sure, they're best friends, but they're not those kinds of friends. 

"Yeah, so, basically, I was wondering if I could have the apartment tomorrow. Leigh's gonna come over, and things might get frisky if you know what I mean," Niall says with an over-the-top wink. Harry rolls his eyes as he messes with his phone case. 

"Fine," Harry sighs. 

"See, I knew you were a good friend." 


	13. A Bud for my Bud

A week passes without a word from Louis. Harry thought he would be happy to finally have Louis out of his life, but the past week has felt empty without the constant texts and facetime calls from him. In a way, it feels like none of it ever happened. 

Harry glances down at his phone and smiles as he sees he got a DM from Taylor. 

_8:56 PM_

TSwizzle

**Pumpkin spice lattes tomorrow before chem?**

HarrySTheBest

**You already know it**

As he clicks out of his messages with Taylor he sees a new notification sitting at the top of his screen. A message from Louis. Hurriedly, Harry taps on it. 

_1 Week Ago_

HarrySTheBest

**Come and hang?**

_8:57 PM_

Louis_T

**Sorry.**

**Been busy**

**Sure ig**

Harry spends the next hour cleaning up the apartment so it's ready for when Louis comes. He hopes the situation with Taylor doesn't leave any lasting beef between the two of them and that they'll be able to move on. 

An hour and a half later, Harry's attention is drawn from his show towards the door as the sound of a knock fills the room. Nervously Harry stands and walks to the door, opens it, and sees Louis standing there. 

"I'm surprised you agreed to come," Harry says. Louis shrugs. He wears a thick maroon coat and a pair of skinny jeans. Stubble has started to dot his chin and jaw. For a moment, Harry almost finds him handsome. Quickly, however, Harry pushes this thought aside and allows Louis into the apartment. 

"I didn't think you wanted me here," Louis admits. Harry shakes his head as he motions for Louis to take a seat on the couch. 

"I don't mind you being here. You're good company, I guess," Harry says, not wanting to feed into Louis' ego. Harry enters the kitchen and grabs two Budlights from the fridge. He opens them both before joining Louis on the couch. 

"Want one," Harry asks as he offers one of the open bottles to Louis. Louis accepts and takes a sip of the beer. 

"See, I told you you'd come around," Louis teases as he props his feet up on the ottoman in front of him. 

"So, why did you want me to come over?" Louis asks. Harry shrugs, not quite knowing why he wanted Louis to come over either. He tells himself that it was because he was bored, but something else itches at him, something Harry doesn't truly want to admit. 

"I don't know, I figured I could use the company," Harry explains. A half-truth is better than the full-truth or a lie, he decides. 

"How about," Louis starts, "We watch something on Netflix." It's a good enough idea. Harry picks up the TV remote, opens Netflix, and shifts to the different movie options. He selects one at random not really caring what movie they watch. Louis doesn't seem to mind either as Harry selects a random Adam Sandler movie. 

"Do you mind if I grab another one?" Louis asks as he holds up the empty bottle of beer. Harry nods towards the fridge.

"Why don't you just grab the whole pack," Harry suggests as he holds up his own empty bottle. Louis nods as he stands and grabs the six-pack from the fridge. 

Harry sits on the opposite end of the couch from Louis and tries not to look at Louis as the movie plays. He tries to focus on whatever stupid jokes Adam Sandler attempts to deliver, but no matter how hard he tries, he can't seem to focus. Whenever Harry does glance in Louis' direction, he finds that Louis seems entranced by the movie as he slowly sips on his beer. 

Halfway through the movie and two six-packs later, Louis reaches over to the remote and pauses the film. "Alrigh', but why's Lucy even giving Henry the time of day," Louis shouts. Harry shakes his head not knowing what Louis is talking about at first before realizing that he must be talking about the movie. 

"I don't know." Harry giggles, "Maybe she's got low standards." Louis shrugs but obviously doesn't accept this. He doesn't know what's funny... nothing's funny, but he laughs anyway. 

"It just doesn't make any fuckin' sense, like? Adam's not even fit and's got no redeemable qualities except that he's wealthy. I don't know how he manages to get the birds in his movies to go after 'em but they all seem proper chuffed to be with him, don't 'ey," Louis drags on loudly. 

Harry watches as Louis stands and wags a finger at Adam Sandler on the screen. His nose crinkles up and he squints his eyes and the look sends Harry into a fit of laughter. It makes his stomach cramp and his eyes water, but it's so funny Harry can't stop. 

Finally, Harry manages to catch a breath and giggles out, "Sounds like someone may be projecting." Louis turns on him fast. He turns his squinted eyes towards Harry and purses his lips, but before Louis can respond Niall appears in the living room.

"Can you guys quiet down some? I'm trying to study," Niall explains through an exhausted sigh. 

Louis crosses his arms as he says, "Can you guys quiet down some? I'm trying to study," in an over-Americanized accent and about three pitches higher than his normal voice. Harry laughs even harder at Louis' impression of Niall. 

Through his own laughter, Harry hears Niall mutter something out, and through his tears, he sees Niall walks away. Drunk Harry doesn't care a bit. He finds the entire situation to be entirely funny, especially Louis, who still stands in the middle of the living room walking around complaining in an American accent about his studying. 

"This flim's rubbish," Louis complains loudly. Harry's managed to control his seemingly uncontrollable laughter and sits on the couch, a smile plastered across his lips. His vision is blurry from the tears of laughing so hard and his stomach cramps, but the only thing he feels is pure joy. 

"Do me next," Harry cheers loudly, wanting to see what Louis' impression of him would be. Louis considers this for a moment. 

Harry's green eyes watch Louis as he slowly drags a hand through his hair. Loud laughter escapes Harry as Louis dramatically bites his lip and walks over to the standing lamp in the corner of the room. 

"Hello, ladies, I'm Harry, but you can call me tonight. I'm so straight and manly," Louis slurs, his voice dropping an octave. Harry erupts in another fit of giggles as he watches Louis flirt with the lamp. 

"I don't sound like that," Harry wheezes as he falls to the floor laughing. Louis walks over to him with a defined sway to his walk. 

Harry stops laughing as Louis stands right above him. Glazed, blue eyes glance down at Harry in a way that makes Harry's insides swirl together and the smile disappears from his face. Louis' eyes crawl their way down Harry's body and Harry wants to stretch out so Louis can see him better, but doesn't. Harry doesn't move as Louis' eyes devour every inch of his body.

"Got ya," Louis whispers before breaking out into laughter. In his own giggles, Louis winds up on the floor with Harry, who hasn't moved. Neither says anything as Louis' giggles slowly die down and they're left in silence. 

"Let's go to my room, my bed is comfier than the floor," Harry suggests. 


	14. Ride a Cock

The white ceiling swirls together as Harry focuses and unfocused his eyes. The optical illusion allows Harry to hunt for different animals in the shades of white as Louis walks around his room. 

Through Harry's fixation with the ceiling, he hears Louis in the distance grumbling about something. He doesn't bother unfocusing on the ceiling to answer whatever dumb question Louis' decided on pestering Harry with now. 

As he stares up at the ceiling, Harry hears a woman's voice hum a familiar tune. The tune is simple, but Harry can't hear what the woman sings. It echoes in his head a couple of times and each time Harry gets more frustrated with himself that he can't riddle out the words the woman is saying. 

"How's that rhyme go," Harry asks aloud.

"Don't know any rhymes," Louis admits from across the room. 

Harry sits up, becoming upset that he can't remember the lyrics to the rhyme. "Fuck," Harry curses under his breath. 

Louis turns to him and smiles. "That's a naughty word... you minx," Louis teases as he walks towards Harry. 

Harry couldn't be bothered with Louis as he moves to stand in between Harry's legs. The tune repeats itself over in Harry's head like a never-ending march, taunting him as Louis' arms rest on Harry's sides. 

"Do you remember," Harry asks, his green eyes resting on Louis' blue ones as Harry hums the tune. Louis seems to listen attentively to Harry's song. Louis considers the tune for a moment when Harry finishes. 

"I only know _'Ride a cock-horse to Banbury Cross, To see a fine lady upon a white horse; Rings on her fingers and bells on her toes, And she shall have music wherever she goes'_ ," Louis hums. Harry's fixation with the song from his childhood is diverted by the music that pours from Louis' thin lips.

"You said cock," Harry points out, laughing. 

Harry giggles to himself, impressed with his joke as Louis sinks in between his legs. A hand on his leg startles Harry into silence as Louis looks up at him. Suddenly, a cold feeling rushes down Harry's back as he realizes that Louis is sitting in between his legs with a dark sea in his eyes. 

Green eyes stare at Louis intensely as Louis breaks their eye contact. Harry never noticed how long Louis' eyelashes are or how dark. They're beautiful really. Someone could've told him that every lash could've been placed by an angel and Harry wouldn't doubt it for a second, he decides. 

"Cinderella," Louis slurs as lays a gentle kiss on Harry's sock-covered foot. Louis' blue eyes look up at Harry from under his heavenly eyelashes and Harry feels like he's being pulled into a trance. 

More words drip from Louis' lips, but Harry's attention falls to Louis' shoulder and he realizes that Louis isn't wearing a shirt. He doesn't remember when Louis lost this article of clothing, but he finds the question slipping from his head as soon as it arrives. It doesn't matter how he lost it, but how beautiful the golden skin swirls together on his shoulder. 

His eyes trail from Louis' shoulder to his collarbone and his chest and his stomach. Louis' skin is perfection. Harry can see some spots of Louis' torso that's more tanned than others and blemishes dotting his navel. "Perfect," Harry whispers. 

Their eyes meet for a moment, lingering on one another. Louis sighs, "Yeah", before adding, "Let's watch a film." 

Harry nods, unable to take his eyes away from Louis. Louis doesn't seem to have the same problem as he snaps away from Hary's gaze and crawls onto the bed next to him. It takes a minute for Harry to recover, but he moves to grab his laptop that sits on the side of his bed. 

"I have a film in mind," Louis explains as he slides the laptop from Harry's lap to his own. A feeling of honor washes over Harry as he realizes that the metal that once sat on his lap now sits on Louis'. He allows this thought to roll over in his head for a couple of minutes before the loud thump of the Netflix intro breaks him of it. 

Harry turns his attention to the computer screen as Louis types something into the search bar. He can't focus his eyes enough to read what Louis types. "I watched it with me mates a while back, a good ole film it is," Louis announces as he slides the computer to rest between the two of them. 

It takes a couple of scenes before Harry realizes that the movie is a gay one. The two main characters, both male, were trending on Twitter when the movie first released. Harry never bothered watching it, but he was always curious about it. He guesses his curiosity would be satisfied tonight. 

As the movie plays, however, Harry can't seem to focus on it. His mind skips to a thousand different thoughts a minute and he can barely keep up. Among them: how strange his hands feel, the concept of sherbet, Louis' thigh touching his, and the song "All Star". 

"I'd be proper beamin' to have someone like that," Louis sighs. Harry forces himself to focus on Louis and the words that seem to drip antagonizing slow from his lips. 

"Have someone like what," Harry questions. 

Louis looks at him for a moment and Harry sees a tear sitting in the corner of his eyes, waiting to be let out. Harry watches as Louis seems to sit so still as to not let the tear fall, all so he can say the movie didn't make him cry. 

"Nothin' just me bein' a sissy's all," Louis sniffles as he wipes at his nose. Harry gives him a nod, not quite sure what to say or do to make Louis feel better. 

Harry stares at Louis as he watches the film. The tear sits in his eye, unmoving. It sits silently as if a forever companion to Louis. Seeing the boy in pain, even if it's a pain coming from longing or something else stirs something in Harry. He hates it. The tear eats away at Harry and he becomes determined on making Louis feel better. 

"Louis," Harry whispers. Louis turns, jolting the tear, but it still doesn't escape. 

A thought crosses Harry's mind and he acts on it, not knowing for sure if it will make Louis feel better, but hoping he does. Harry brings a hand up to Louis' face and holds it there gently before leaning in. 


	15. A Massive Douche

Harry wakes up with a pounding headache. He lays under his blanket for a couple of seconds, dreading coming out from under it, knowing that his headache will only worsen.

"Goddammit," Harry whispers as he throws the blanket over him. Immediately, he's met with the sun shining in his face. Cursing, he turns around; so the sun doesn't hit his eyes.

As he does, he sees Louis lying next to him. The other boy has the white comforter pulled up to his chin, and his eyelashes lay gently against his cheek. _Harry slowly leans in..._ no.He stands, exiting the room, making sure to shut the door as quietly as possible; so he doesn't disturb Louis' slumber.

Harry is greeted by a mess in the living room. Beer bottles and empty six-back containers are strewn across the room. Sighing, Harry collects them. As he picks up the empty bottles, he forces the memories away that try to creep upon him. He doesn't want to remember what happened. Remembering last night could mean remembering something Harry doesn't want to. It's easier to forget it all than to have the memories haunting him.

"Look who's finally awake," A voice says as Harry turns the corner into the kitchen. Niall stands by the fridge, eating a slice of pepperoni pizza in his boxers.

"Don't you have class or something," Harry asks as he tosses the empty bottles into the trash can under the sink.

"Yeah, I'm about to head out. Don't know how well I'm going to do on my test though" Niall sighs as he finishes his slice.

Harry moves to grab a slice of bread from the loaf as he replies, "Why's that?"

"Couldn't study last night," Niall says pointedly. Harry loads the bread into the toaster, not sure what Niall is trying to insinuate.

"Why not? Procrastinate too much? I told you you should take a break from Tiktok. That shit's addictive," Harry laughs as he turns back to Niall. Niall's blue eyes stare into Harry for a moment, as if waiting for Harry to say something.

"Never mind, it's not that deep," Niall huffs as he slides past Harry in the kitchen. Harry watches in disbelief as Niall slams the door on the way out.

Harry rolls his eyes at his roommate's moodiness. Just as his toast jumps out of the toaster, Harry gets a notification from his phone in his pocket.

"Fuck, Jesus, ah," Harry shouts as he attempts to grab his toast bare-handed from the toaster. He sticks his burnt fingers in his mouth as he opens the Instagram notification.

_9:54 AM_

TSwizzle

**Harry? You coming?**

Harry stares down at the message in confusion for a moment before remembering he promised Taylor he would meet her for coffee before chemistry.

HarrySTheBest

**Shitttt uh why dont we grab it after?**

TSwizzle

**:/ Alright**

Harry feels like shit. It's not the first time that Harry's forgotten about plans with someone, and he knows it won't be the last, but he feels horrible. It's the first time that Harry's ever felt bad about forgetting plans. Sure, he's felt a twang of guilt here and there, but imagining Taylor sitting at the Starbucks alone waiting for him makes his stomach twist. He promises himself he'll make it up to her tenfold.

~_~_~

Harry missed most of his chem class to try and pull his apology to Taylor together. Because of Taylor, however, Harry's already ahead in the course, so missing the lecture won't really affect his grade at all.

Admittedly, Harry feels a little stupid as he stands outside the lecture hall. He holds a bouquet of purple and blue flowers that a salesclerk at the flower shop suggested in one hand and a venti pumpkin spiced latte from Starbucks in the other.

Maybe he splurged a little with the drink and the flowers, but he just wants to make sure that Taylor knows he feels horrible about accidentally standing her up.

As the students in his chem class slowly start to file out of the room, he watches for Taylor. Through the bob of heads, Harry manages to make out Taylor as one of the last out of the lecture hall.

"Taylor," Harry calls. A pack of students moves out of the way giving Taylor enough room to see Harry standing there with his gifts. He gives her a lop-sided smile as he holds up the items happily.

"Harry, what did you do," Taylor whisper-shouts as she guides them out of the middle of the hallway. Harry can tell that Taylor's a little embarrassed by all of the attention, but the blush and smile she's trying to hide is worth it.

"I wanted to say sorry for missing coffee earlier today. I was a massive douche for that," Harry explains as he hands her the pumpkin spice latte. Taylor accepts it gratefully before glancing at the bouquet of flowers.

"Hydrangeas? Harry, you really shouldn't have," Taylor blushes. Harry shrugs.

"It's not a biggie, honestly. I'll walk you back to your dorm." Taylor takes a sip of her drink and then smiles again.

"You remembered the oat milk?"

Harry shrugs nonchalantly, "'Course, it would suck if you got a stomach ache or something."

Taylor takes another sip of her drink happily. "Seriously, Harry, thank you for all of this. You're too much." Harry shrugs as they both turn to walk out of the building.

The crisp autumn air hits Harry in the face as they exit the building. He pulls the hood of his sweater over his head and tightens the flannel he's wearing over it. Taylor visibly shivers and shakes her head to move the hair out of her face as a gust of wind rushes by.

"What're you doing tomorrow," Taylor asks as she takes another sip of her hot drink.

"I don't know, hopefully, get drunk, though," Harry admits. Halloween has always been one of Harry's favorites, besides St. Patrick's Day, of course, because he has an excuse to get plastered. Not that Harry ever needs an excuse to drink, but it's nice to have an excuse instead of just saying he's a borderline alcoholic.

Thankfully, Taylor doesn't live far from the chemistry building, and Harry's apartment isn't much farther. He gives her a quick hug goodbye and waits for her to get all the way inside the dorm before dashing back to his apartment complex.

He's nearly out of breath when he gets there; however, all the breath remaining escapes his lungs as he sees his father's Mclaren and Louis' rental parked in the lot.


	16. Daddy Dearest

Harry's heart skips a beat as his eyes land on her father's Mclaren parked next to the black SUV Louis' rented. Cursing under his breath, he makes a mad dash into the building and takes the stairs instead of waiting on an elevator. As he leaps up two stairs at a time, his thoughts race with a thousand different things that could be going on; worst of all, his father talking to Louis.

Harry takes a moment to arrange himself as he stands in front of his closed door. He takes a deep breath and runs a hand through his hair so he doesn't look like he's as terrified as he is. Gathering as much faux confidence as Harry can muster, he opens the door to his apartment.

The sound of laughter fills the room as Harry walks in. "I'm home," He shouts in an attempt to make his presence known. Carefully, Harry closes the door and takes a step inside.

Harry's worst nightmare comes to life as he looks at the scene in front of him. Sitting on his living room couch is his father. His neatly trimmed hair is cut close to the sides of his head and a little more salt than pepper these days. Growing up, Harry's father taught him the importance of a clean face, but now the man sports a trimmed goatee and mustache. A box of pizza sits on the coffee table in front of him as well.

"Son, I thought you would never join us," His father's voice booms. Harry's stomach drops as his eyes fall on Louis sitting next to him. A smile is etched across Louis' face, and a slice of pizza sits in his hand.

"I had a class," Harry explains simply. Hesitatingly, Harry moves into the living room.

His father's brown eyes give Harry a disappointed once over before he clears his throat, "Well, Son, when were you going to introduce me to this fine man," His father bellows. A blush tints Louis' cheeks as Harry looks between the two of them.

"Y-you two... you two met," Harry stammers. His father shoots him a cold look, and Harry knows what the man wants to say.

"I'm sorry, Louis, I've been trying to get him to stop that stammering of his for years now. I keep telling him nobody will take a stammering doctor seriously," His father jokes pointedly. Harry's stomach twists as his eyes fall to his shoes.

"That's quite alright, Mr. Styles. Actually, my family doctor had a stammer," Louis admits. Louis sends Harry a sly wink as their eyes meet from across the room.

"Really? Well, no Styles man has ever stammered. He gets it from his mother's side." His father's laugh fills the room, echoing loudly. Louis' eyes don't move from Harry's as he lets out a small smile.

"What're you doing here, Dad," Harry asks softly. He has to force his green eyes away from Louis' so he can look into the cold eyes of his father.

"Can't a father come to check on his son? You're my only son after all," His father says, cooly. Harry watches as his father subtly raises an eyebrow, tempting Harry to say something back. Of course, Harry never does, and his father must know that by now.

"I've just come to remind you that our family dinner is coming up on Friday. Your mother would be heartbroken if you didn't show up," His father explains. The coldness his father reserves for Harry drips away as he puts on his mask for Louis.

"You couldn't send me a text," Harry questions.

His father shoots him a gaze, warning Harry to stay quiet and stop embarrassing him in front of Harry's friend. Harry knows the look well enough.

Without answering Harry's question, his father turns to Louis. "A friend of Harry's is a friend of the family's. You're more than welcome to come as well, Louis, if you find yourself without plans," His father offers. Louis glances between Harry and Harry's father. Harry sends Louis a look, pleading that he rejects the offer. His father can't know how much of a mess Harry's made.

"Oh, I don't want to intrude," Louis replies, waving Harry's father's offer away with his hand. Harry takes a breath, thankful that Louis seems to understand the silent conversations that have been going on.

"You'll be no intruder! In fact, I insist. My wife will be thrilled to have a guest," His father pushes. Harry knows what he's doing, and he doesn't like it one bit. Louis seems to have noticed the shift in the man's tone and gives Harry a sympathetic look.

"Alright then, I'll see you this Friday," Louis says. A crooked smile spreads across the man's lips as he stands. Louis stands with him and offers Harry's father a handshake.

Harry watches as his father seems to contemplate their final greeting. He looks Harry up and down with a disappointed scowl before leaning in. His father's lips find their way to Harry's ear as he whispers, "Don't embarrass me again, Boy."

The phrase washes over Harry for a moment. When they pull away, a smile is plastered across his father's lips.

"Nice meeting you, Mr. Tomlinson. I'll be looking forward to seeing you, and my son, on Friday. Have a happy Halloween," His father says as he picks up his coat and exits the apartment without sparing Harry another glance.

As soon as the door shuts behind him, Harry lets out a breath of relief. Louis takes a step towards Harry and rests a hand on his arm. "Are you okay," He asks quietly.

"He's such a dick," Harry spits as he runs a hand through his hair again.

"Well, I wouldn't have been able to tell. The bastard puts on a good face for others, I guess," Louis sighs. Harry can feel his hands shaking as he attempts to catch his breath. "Why don't you sit down? I'll grab ya a glass of water."

Harry nods as he takes a seat at his island. He sets his hands against the cool marble countertop and counts to ten in his head. This was supposed to be his safe place and his father, like always, had to ruin that for him.

Louis sets a glass of water in front of Harry and slides into the chair next to him. "Well, good news, we can get absolutely pissed on Halloween tomorrow if you want," Louis suggests with a grin. Halloween. Fuck.

"One of the frats are throwing a Halloween party. They're doing paired costumes and always have a ton of booze. You wanna come," Harry offers.

"I mean, I don't have a costume... or anyone to do a paired costume with," Louis points out. Harry considers this for a moment.

"We can always go together. We could be like... a sexy firefighter or something. It'll be easy enough," Harry suggests. Louis smirks at Harry.

"Wanna see me as a sexy firefighter, huh," Louis teases. Harry rolls his eyes as he takes a sip of the water.

"Like I said, it's easy... kinda like you actually," Harry teases back. Louis rests a hand against his chest as if he's been shot. 

"Ouch, that one hurt! You dickhead." 

Harry laughs, already feeling the anxiousness of his father's arrival dripping away. 


	17. Put me Out

Harry's green eyes rake over himself one last time as he gazes into the mirror. A pair of red suspenders hold up baggy, blue cargo pants, and a plastic yellow firefighter hat sits on his curly mop of brown hair. Admittedly, Harry probably should've gotten a light fake tan to make him look a little more muscular than he already is.

Sighing, he decides this is as good as he's going to look. He makes one last sweep around the room, making sure he hasn't left anything he'll need before leaving.

"What are you wearing," Niall asks. Harry looks up and sees Niall standing in his doorway wearing a ridiculous outfit. A long top hat sits on his head with a green strap around the middle. Black slacks cover his legs, and he wears a green pin-stripe suit jacket that reveals his chest underneath.

"What are _you_ wearing," Harry shoots back as he looks at his best friend. Niall's shoulders sag as he looks Harry up and down.

"I'm the Once Ler. You said we were going to go as the Once Ler and Willy Wonka... you know from TikTok," Niall explains. Harry shakes his head, not remembering the conversation at all.

"I have no clue what you're talking about, Dude," Harry says as he continues past him.

He stops as he sees Louis standing in between the kitchen and living room. One of his hands is tucked into a pair of matching blue cargo pants. Louis' slight tan compliments the red suspenders better than Harry's paler skin does. The yellow plastic hat sits on the back of his head as Louis stares down at his phone.

Harry feels a pull in his stomach as Louis looks up at him and smiles cheerfully. The smile quickly shifts into a smirk as he gives Harry a once-over. "Lookin' fit," Louis cheers.

"Wait, you two are...," Niall stammers. Harry turns to look at Niall, who stands in the hallway looking between the two of them.

"Yeah, Louis and I are going as sexy firefighters," Harry explains impatiently. He doesn't understand what's so hard to get about the costumes. He and Louis are dressed identically, so, obviously, they're a pair.

"Once Ler? Looks nice, Ni. You got someone to be the Lorax or Willy Wonka," Louis asks. Harry doesn't understand anything Louis says.

"Don't call me Ni." Niall spits, "And I did, but I guess he forgot. So, no." Louis flinches at Niall's bitter tone.

"Hey, chill the fuck out, Niall," Harry shouts. Niall looks between the two of them, shaking his head. Harry has no clue what's gotten into the guy as he angrily storms out of the apartment. Harry turns to Louis and rolls his eyes.

"I have no clue what his fucking problem is. Are you ready to go," Harry sighs?

Louis nods, "The Uber is waiting outside."

~_~_~

The party is already in full swing by the time the pair arrive. People sit scattered across the lawn in various costumes with drinks in their hands. Harry pays the Uber before exiting the car and starting up the stairs to the frat house.

"Hey, Harry," people cheer as he walks by. Harry gives them waves as he walks past, not knowing some of them. The perks of not being in a frat, but being hot enough and rich enough to be in one, is the ability to go to any of the frats' parties without causing problems.

"Yo, Haz, looking hot," Someone slurs as they open the door. Harry recognizes the man as one of the senior frat brothers.

"Thanks, man. Have the DG girls gotten here yet," Harry questions? The brother nods inside the house as he takes another sloppy sip out of his red solo cup. Harry thanks him and heads inside, Louis not far behind.

"Who are the 'DG' girls," Louis whispers loudly. Music pounds in through Bluetooth speakers, and people chat loudly around them.

"Delta Gamma, it's a sorority. If you're looking for the hottest girls on campus, that's where you'll find them," Harry explains.

He spares a look at Louis, who walks through the room confidently. Already, he can see the eyes of various girls raking over Louis' bare torso. A flare of something sparks in the bottom of Harry's stomach as he sees the girls' sexual hunger.

"Harry," a girl shouts. Harry looks around in an attempt to find the girl who said his name. Green eyes fall on Taylor, who jumps up from the couch she was sitting on. She takes a quick sip from a silver flask as she rushes to Harry's side.

"Taylor," Harry sighs happily. He brings her in for a tight hug. The smell of vodka looms around her.

When they pull away, her eyes land on Louis. Harry notices Louis' eyes darken at the sight of her, but Taylor doesn't notice. "Louis, right," Taylor asks. She takes a step towards Louis, her eyes resting a couple seconds too long on his lips.

"That would be me," Louis replies, disinterested. Harry lays a gentle hand on Taylor's shoulder, steering her away from Louis. "I'm gonna get pissed," Louis shouts as he turns away from the two of them.

"Why did you run him off! He's hot," Taylor pouts as she takes another sip from her flask. Harry shakes his head as he watches Louis walk away.

"He's off-limits and definitely not interested in you," Harry replies as he takes the flask from Taylor's hand. He downs some of the clear liquid inside, feeling the burn of the liquor as it travels down his throat.

"You don't know that." Harry turns to her and gives her a look. He doesn't have the heart to tell her that Louis didn't talk to him for a week after introducing the two of them. So, instead, he turns his attention to her outfit.

"What're you supposed to be?"

Taylor looks down at her paisley printed dress and twirls happily. The top of the dress plunges into a deep-V, revealing a large portion of her chest. Harry guesses that the dress was made for a shorter girl in mind as it ends just below Taylor's butt.

"I'm sexy seventies! All the DG girls are doing it. No guys have come and talked to me, though," Taylor sighs. Harry pushes a hand into his pocket as he takes another sip from Taylor's flask.

"You're a pledge, so you're off-limits. I'm sure you'll find someone to sleep with if you really want to," Harry replies, his eyes finding their way to Louis, who laughs loudly with a girl in the kitchen. 

"What about Louis? Do you think I can sleep with him? I've never slept with an English guy before."

Harry watches Louis from afar as he downs four shots of something. The man shakes his head afterward and cheers as he prepares another two. A blush creeps its way across Harry's cheeks as Louis' blue eyes fall on him from across the house. Louis sends him a wink before turning back to the girl.

He doesn't know if it's the alcohol or Louis' wink that sends a warm flush through Harry's body. However, the feeling is quickly put out as the girl moves in closer to Louis. Harry watches, bitterly, as she pulls Louis in for a deep kiss.

"Let's find somewhere quiet," Harry replies as he quickly turns away. Taylor, oblivious to Louis and the girl, takes Harry's hand and leads him deeper into the house.

Taylor's hands are icy in Harry's as they make their way up a flight of stairs and down a hallway riddled with doors. One of the lights flickers in the hallway, giving it an ominous glow. They make their way down the hallway together anyway. Loud moaning comes from a couple of the doors, and Taylor makes the mistake of opening one, revealing a naked couple.

"Oopsies," She giggles as she slams the door shut again and opening the one next to it.

Bunkbeds are pushed into the corner of the room, but, thankfully, it's empty. Taylor rushes to the bottom bed and flings herself onto it. "So soft," she sighs as he burrows her head into the pillow. Harry shuts the door behind them as he finds a spot on the floor.

"Fuck," Harry mumbles as he stares at the ceiling. The image of Louis and the girl kissing burns in Harry's head. Louis didn't even push her away.

"I'm horny," Taylor pouts.

Harry pays her no mind as he takes another sip from the flask.

He doesn't know how long he lays on the floor or how many more gulps he takes, but Harry knows he's drunk when the ceiling starts to swirl together.

The sound of the door slamming open startles him, causing Harry to jump from his spot and turns towards the intruders. A familiar face stares back at him.

"Louis," Harry breathes. Louis stands in the doorway, his hat gone and the straps of his suspenders hanging at his sides. Lipstick stains the sides of his cheeks, and his hair is a disaster.

A girl appears behind Louis wearing a red bra and underwear. Her lipstick has been smudged in certain places, and her hair is a mess. Harry looks between the two of them and feels a pang of disgust as he does.

"It's occupied, let's find a different one," the girl breathes. Louis's eyes land on Harry's, and it feels like Harry's being pulled into a trance.

The room around Harry seems to disappear as he looks at Louis. Green eyes rake over his body hungrily as Louis takes a step into the room. Blurred, Harry sees the girl attempt to pull Louis back, but he yanks his arm free and shuts the door.

"Fuck it," Louis mumbles as he takes two steps forward and presses his lips against Harry's. 


	18. C Major

A light ding stirs Harry from his slumber. Sighing, he opens his eyes. The events of last night a total blur.

"Fuck me," Harry groans as he rolls to his side and unplugs his phone from the wall. Yawning, he opens Snapchat. A mistake, really. Hundreds of unopened Snaps glow red and blue for Harry to open. He bypasses all of them until he lands on a familiar face.

Pink hearts surround Taylor's Bitmoji as he selects the red icon next to it. The snap opens to reveal a picture of Taylor with a yellow firefighter hat on. 'I think you left something...' is typed out at the bottom of the photo, along with Taylor's tired expression.

Harry opens the camera icon and takes an equally tired-looking picture. He captions it 'fuck' before sending it Taylor, not really caring that he didn't look his best.

As he waits for Taylor's response, he gathers what energy he can to climb out of bed. He catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror and rubs a hand over his face as he's greeted by his own tired expression.

Harry shakes his head as he turns away from the mirror and towards his bedroom door. The smell of coffee fills the apartment as Harry makes his way to the kitchen where Niall sits. A bowl of colorful cereal sits in front of his friend, and his hair is messy from sleep.

"Mornin'," Harry murmurs as he steps into the kitchen to prepare his breakfast. As he takes two slices of bread out, he spares a glance outside. The sun sits just above the horizon, casting beautiful shades of yellow, blue, and white into the sky. A couple of fluffy white clouds drift lazily across the Los Angeles skyline. It would be a good day for a morning run, Harry decides.

He quietly takes out a slice of bread and places it into the toaster before turning to his friend.

"Where'd you go last night," Harry questions as he waits for his bread to toast.

Niall looks up from his bowl of cereal and scoffs, "Too drunk to remember? I carried you two idiots back home from the party after not being let in, to begin with. You're welcome for that, by the way."

Harry raises an eyebrow in Niall's direction. He's not sure why Niall's laying his frustrations on him. It's not like it's Harry's fault that the brothers didn't let Niall in. "What's your problem," Harry asks loudly.

The toast jumps from the toaster, but Harry lets it sit and cool while Niall replies, "Nothing, I just have a test to study for."

"Don't take your procrastination out on me. Not my fault," Harry points out as he takes the toast from the toaster. He brings the bread to his lips and takes a bite, giving his friend a look from across the kitchen.

"You're right. I'm sorry," Niall grumbles. Harry can tell that only a part of his friend is sorry, but he doesn't want to fight that battle today. Instead, Harry finishes his toast in silence.

"I'm going to go to the library and see if I can study some there," Niall explains as he finishes the last couple of bites from his bowl.

"Alright," Harry responds, wiping the crumbs on his hand off on the side of his thigh.

~_~_~

With the apartment to himself, Harry feels a sense of peace wash over him. He stands in his living room, his eyes falling on the grand piano. Its sleek black frame has a thin layer of dust on it, and the keys are as pure and ivory as they looked when he bought it.

The night he bought it was a low one for him, admittedly, and he thought having the instrument in his house would bring him some sort of peace. Maybe having it here would be a silent rebellion against his father. Sure, he wasn't allowed to learn to play as a child, but he could learn now. He had the instrument, and Google was free, so nothing was stopping him. Except, every time he sat down, he felt like throwing up. He could hear his father's voice in his head, calling him a Pussy for even sitting on the bench. Telling him that the piano and music is for women and a women's place in the house and men should focus on bringing in money.

Nothing stops Harry now either. An invisible string seems to pull Harry in, guiding him towards the piano bench.

Hesitantly, Harry takes a seat and slides his hands over the top of the keys, not making a sound. He doesn't allow himself to touch the keys, not yet. The familiar feeling of shame starts rooting its way, but Harry tries to push it down. He needs to get over himself.

_"No son of mine plays the piano."_

Harry pushes the thought aside and tries to find a sense of calm. He closes his eyes and images a beach in front of him. The water laps quietly and peacefully against the shore. The thought takes a minute to calm Harry's nerves, but then he's finally ready, he feels a tug on his finger, and he's playing a note.

The sound is a low one, and it sends vibrations all through Hary's back as it echoes around the room. See, Harry tells himself quietly, he had nothing to worry about.

Gingerly, he brings his other hand up to the black and white keys and places them gently on top, careful not to press down on them in fear of sounding bad.

A memory teases its way to the front of Harry's mind, distracting him from the moment at hand.

_"Look, it's really easy, Bubbi! You just play these three notes, and you make a pretty sound," Gemma cheers. Her voice slurs in the way a child's voice does, but Harry, only four at the time, doesn't understand what she means. He has an urge to reach out and slam his hand against the black and white shapes in front of him, but Gemma's hand holds onto his tightly._

_"Gentle, Bubbi, you don't wanna wake Daddy," She giggles, her voice brushing past the curls covering Harry's ears. Harry perks up at the sound of the word 'Daddy.'_

_He looks up at his big sister's face, her eyes staring down at him kindly and warmly. He would've trusted her with anything back then. She was his big sister, after all. His sisters knew what she was doing. Maybe that's why Harry allowed Gemma to guide his pudgy hands to the keys. She takes each of his little fingers and presses down on three separate notes. The sound of music fills the room, and Harry beams. He was playing!_

_"Gemma-Anne! Get my son off that bench!"_

Nothing stops him now. Harry opens his eyes and glances down at the piano keys, his fingers hovering over them. They make up the chord Gemma helped him play and the chord that he secretly played whenever he had the chance. That was before the guilt and shame got ahold of him too tightly anyway.

Harry allows a final breath to escape his lips before pressing down on the keys, producing beautiful music. 


	19. Smaller Than My...

Harry spares a glance at Louis before they head to the Styles family dinner. Niall sits on the couch in the living room wearing only a pair of plaid blue boxers. He throws Harry and Louis a glance before shifting his attention back to his tv show. 

"Do I look nice," Louis asks, turning to Harry. Harry looks him up and down, his breath catching as he does. 

Louis' hair is fluffy and styled more than it usually is. He wears one of Harry's old suits since he didn't have one. There was no point in renting, either, when Louis fit in Harry's. Some stubble has started to appear on the sides of his face, but it's tidy enough. Harry attempts to write off his reaction as shock and suppresses the question that nags in the back of his mind. 

"Yeah," Harry sighs, forcing himself to look at Niall again. He knows what Niall's doing. Usually, Harry invites Niall to his family dinners. His father loves Harry's best friend--or as much as his father can love anyone that is. 

"You can go next time, Ni." 

"I know, it's no biggie, Harry," Niall explains. Harry knows that it's not 'no biggie', but he doesn't have time to focus on Niall's feelings when he'll be meeting with his father in less than an hour. 

He realizes then how underprepared they are for the dinner. Harry should've briefed Louis beforehand and told him what to say to impress his father. It's hard enough for Harry, nevertheless a total stranger. He curses himself for forgetting, but it's too late for that now.

"Ready to go," Louis questions as he eyes the clock. Harry gives Niall a last look before joining Louis as they walk out the door. 

~_~_~

Harry stands outside his family house, but he wouldn't call it that. The textured, white-plastered walls and the red-tile roof has become a dreaded symbol of Harry's childhood. He has countless memories of stepping out of luxury cars being chastised by his father with ten-foot-tall walls surrounding them, locking Harry in like a prisoner. Walking back into the place of his childhood leaves a dreaded weight across his shoulders that take a couple of days to shake. 

Blindly, he passes the driver a couple of bills and he steps out of the car. The first time bringing people to his childhood home is usually an interesting one for Harry. It was part of a game that he made up in his youth. He would bring friends to his house and guess how shocked they would be at the size and rules that came with it. For a moment, Harry wonders how Louis will react. 

Harry's green eyes watch Louis as he steps out of the car, but his face is unreadable. No notes of shock or wonder at the sight of the mansion in front of him. He waits a moment longer, sure that Louis will show some sign of something. 

"What're we waiting for," Louis questions after a minute, bringing Harry out of his trance. 

Harry realizes that he's read Louis incorrectly and he flushes slightly with embarrassment. "Oh, usually people are a little shocked about the house," He explains. Louis glances up at the building, a smirk playing at the edges of his lips. 

"It's pretty big, but it's smaller than my..." 

"Baby brother," Someone shouts, cutting off the end of Louis' sentence. 

Harry turns towards the sound of his voice. He would've been able to detect his sister even if she hadn't spoken since the abrasive smell of alcohol seems to be Gemma's permanent perfume. Everything about her is wrong, Harry decides. Subconsciously, he becomes embarrassed knowing that he will have to claim Gemma as his family. 

"I'm not a baby," Harry shoots back. Brown eyes rake over Harry's body, but Harry doesn't spare it a thought.

"You're always gonna be my little baby," Gemma coos as she ruffles Harry's hair. He shoves her away from him and takes a moment to fix his hair. A scowl etches itself across his face as he glares at his sister, who wobbles a little in her heels. 

"Already been to the bar, Gems," Harry says, knowing that his remark would hit her where she's tender. She whips her head to turn to Harry, her obnoxiously highlighted hair swinging as she does. 

For a minute, Gemma doesn't say anything. Her eyes flick between Harry and Louis before a smile pulls its away across her painted red lips. Slowly, she walks back to the pair. Harry gives her a look, begging her to push him a little bit more just so he can knock her down harder. Gemma seems to consider what to say before turning her body towards Louis. 

A smirk plays across her face as she drags an acrylic nail over Louis' shoulder. Louis doesn't seem bothered by the action, but his sister seems to have found Harry's weak spot, and he hates it. She walks around Louis, seeming to examine him before turning back towards Harry. 

Whispering, she says, "So this is the man Hazzie married... I figured you were always into blondes." 

Harry's heart sinks into his stomach and he feels as though he's stepped into a fire. Tears threaten his eyes as he stares at his sister, both of them knowing how hard she's hit him. Gemma doesn't seem to care about the comment and its implications as she smirks knowingly. How Gemma even found out about the whole thing is a mystery Harry would have to unpack later, but the dreaded doom of knowing that his sister could say something around their father looms over him. 

"Shut the fuck up," Harry hisses. The only thing keeping him from going to an extreme is the look on Louis' face. It's a soft one, quietly reminding Harry that it'll be alright. He's sure that Louis may not even realize he's making the face, to begin with. 

"Hmm, well I'll see you two inside," Gemma hums, turning on her heels and heading towards the door of the house. 

Before Harry has the chance to apologize for his sister's outspokenness or warn Louis of what's to come, he hears the voice of his mother calling them both inside. 


	20. Chipped Polish

A piece of cooked duck sits on the plate in front of Harry along with a potato dish and vegetables. The food is alright, he decides, but nothing extraordinary. He probably would have preferred a meal from a fast-food chain than the dish that sits in front of him.

His father's voice cuts through the silence of the table, "So, Gemma, how did rehab go?" Harry takes a bite of his duck, deciding to mind his business. The less he has to talk the better.

"We have a guest," His mom's voice chastises. Harry glances up at her voice and locks eyes with his mom from across the table.

The golden locket that lays on her chest looks shinner than normal, but everything about the woman is the same as it's always been. Little lines surround her eyes and lips, evidence of her age. Harry can tell that it's been a while since his mom has visited the hair salon because of the whisps of gray at her temples.

Harry hears Louis clear his throat next to him. The table feels crowded in a way that it usually doesn't. While the oak wood was made for ten chairs, usually only four sit around it. Louis and he had to go digging in the basement to find the spare for Louis to use for the meal. The space that Louis takes up next to Harry fills the usual void that surrounds Harry at the table.

"Louis, yes, how are you doing! You're so quiet over there I almost forgot about you," His father chuckles loudly, making the room echo. Harry turns to Louis, watching as a smile starts to bloom at the ends of his lips as he finishes his bite.

Before Louis has the chance, Gemma starts. "You know," She says loudly. Harry's green eyes dart towards her, "A lot of things start to make sense when you take a look at the past. For instance, look at Hazza. He painted his nails when he was a kid, and you can't use the excuse you use now. You weren't trying to impress girls back then, were you baby brother? It's just... crazy how everything works out. Say, Louis, have you listened to 'Sweater Weather' by any chance?"

Harry's heart drops as he realizes what Gemma's done and he tears his gaze away from her. There's a chance his father may not have caught on to what Gemma was implying, but Louis did. Surely Louis knows and can put it all together, but it's not true.

"Take it back," Harry whispers. His green eyes stare daggers into his plate, not allowing himself to look up at her in fear of what might happen. He doesn't want to lose himself, but he already feels like he drowning and the last thing he needs is for Gemma to hold his head under the water.

"I'm sorry, were you talking to me, baby brother," Gemma asks innocently. He doesn't have to look up to know she's smirking. She's proud of herself. She's taken a sledgehammer to Harry's carefully constructed life and shattered it, and she's proud of herself.

"I said," Harry breathes. He's unable to hold back his anger anymore as he stands abruptly, kicking the chair out of his way and bringing his hand down on the oak table loudly. "Take it back! I'm not a fucking fairy, alright! I'm a fucking man."

"Don't yell at the table," His mother's voice cries.

"You're not a fucking man, you're a child. Sit your ass down," His father adds.

Harry's eyes fall on Gemma, a startled look in her eyes. He narrows his gaze at her, unable to stop the flow of words that come spiraling out of his mouth."You take that back right now, Gemma, or I swear to god. I'm not a fucking faggot and don't you dare assume anything about me or my life. You have no fucking right to assume shit about me or Louis."

"Harry Edward Styles if you don't have a seat at my table!"

A chorus of protests erupts in the dining room, but Harry can't hear anything over his own ragged breathing. His heartbeat washes away the harsh words of his father, his mother's tears, and his sister's laughter. He's drowning in the sea of it all and he's still standing. Why he is he still standing?

He makes eye contact with Gemma from across the room and he feels himself starting to move towards her, seeing red, wishing to make her feel how he does, but he feels something else before he can. He can feel a cool hand taking his, momentarily cooling the fire that's burning in his cheeks and body. For a moment, he calms down.

Harry turns towards the feeling and sees Louis sitting next to him. Louis looks as calm as ever, not a hair out of place. Harry knows he must look a mess and his attention shifts entirely to Louis. How stupid was he to try and pick a fight with Gemma at the table with Louis watching? Almost as quickly as the fire started and doused by Louis' cool hand does another wave of embarrassment crash over him and he's drowning again, except this time his own tears are choking him and blurring his vision.

The lights from the chandelier seem to become brighter and the sounds of his family hit him in waves along with his own emotions. He can't breathe. Oh god, he feels like he's going to throw up and choke to death at the dining room table and he does the only thing he can think of.

His memories are what drive Harry away from the table. Blinded by the light from the chandelier and his tears, his feet guide him to a quieter part of the space, somewhere he can attempt to breathe without choking.

Gemma's words tower over him again as Harry collapses into a dark corner. He brings his hands to his eyes and his feet to his chin as he lets everything attack him at once. The echoes of his sister's laughter surround him, biting and tearing away at him.

Then, the cool.


	21. Fortissimo

Sunlight hits Harry's green eyes the next morning, and it takes a moment for him to adjust. Sighing, he sits up and runs a hand over his bed in search of his phone. However, he comes back empty-handed. 

"Jesus fuck," He murmurs as he rubs his face tiredly. A rush of hot air washes over Harry and he tosses the blankets that cover him aside. 

When he does, he realizes what he's wearing. The suit jacket and tie he wore last night have been abandoned somewhere, but he still wears the white-collar shirt and black slacks. One of his black socks is curled at the end of the bed, and the other hangs off the end of his foot pathetically. 

He rolls the last of the sock off and tosses it across the room. His room, right. Slowly, as the sleep drifts away from Harry, the memories of the night before swarm in. Gemma's words ring loudly in his ears and he fears he may never forget them.

_"A lot of things start to make sense when you take a look at the past"_

_"Have you listened to 'Sweater Weather' by any chance?"_

He shakes away his sister's words as he remembers how he got back to his bedroom in the first place. Flashes of Louis sitting with him in a dark room as Harry cries silently, Louis leaving for only a moment to call an Uber, the ride back home, and Louis taking off Harry's coat and guiding him into bed. 

Louis. Harry prays that he doesn't have to face Louis again after the events of the night before. He shouldn't have allowed himself to get so worked up and Harry's not sure how he'll deal with the embarrassment of it all. Surely, Harry will be able to avoid Louis for a week or so, just long enough for both of them to forget everything that happened. It wouldn't be the first time. 

Sighing, Harry slides out of his bed, welcoming the feel of the cold wood on his feet. He stops as he sees the figure on the floor. 

Louis lays on the ground of his bedroom with one suit jacket curled under his head and the other sprawled over half of his body. He lays in the fetal position, with his knees up to his chin. He sees a shiver run down Louis' back as he sleeps on the cold floor. Harry curses under his breath. Why didn't Louis go home? 

As quietly as possible, Harry pulls the blanket from his bed and lays it across Louis' body. Almost immediately he notices Louis relax. He tears his gaze away from the sleeping man as he feels a small smile starting to erupt at the corners of his lips. 

Harry forces his feet towards the door, making sure to close it as softly as possible, not wanting to wake Louis. The view of his apartment is a comforting one. The chandelier over the dining room gives off a warm glow, unlike the one at his childhood house, and the ticking of the clock fills the empty space in his head. 

His eyes find their way to the window overlooking the rest of the city. The sun sits behind a couple of large, light-gray clouds. It would be a great morning for a run, but it's the last thing he wants to do. 

As he stands in the large open room, he feels the invisible string again. The one that itches at the back of his head. The one that begs for Harry to come sit at the bench again. 

Thoughtlessly, Harry obliges the string. The last time he sat at the bench wasn't that long ago really, but it could've been centuries ago for all Harry is concerned. The last time he sat here, he didn't feel the burning numbness of his existence or the weight of the world on his shoulders. He felt everything then, but now he feels next to nothing. 

He doesn't fear the keys this time, not anymore. He brings his hands up to the ivory and places them down, producing a quiet hum. No song or note pattern comes to mind as Harry presses keys at random, enjoying the chaos of it all. 

As his fingers press down on random keys, he hears himself growing louder and faster, unable to keep up with his own inner voice. It whispers for Harry to move faster and to play as many notes as he can. How hard can he press? How fast can he go? It turns into a game, Harry versus Harry, who can play faster. 

He brings his finger down to play a note, but it slips, causing the side of his hand to slam down on multiple keys at once. The sound jolts Harry, bringing him back to life. Green eyes fall on the ivory and he watches as a drop of water hits one of the keys. Is the ceiling leaking?

Harry glances up and, as he does, feels a sting in his eyes. He looks back down at the keys and watches as another tear falls. Weird. Harry brings his hand up to his cheeks and touches them gently. 

The joyful bliss of the chaos of the keys fades as the fear of his own loneliness settles around him. His hands reach for his phone until he realizes he doesn't have it. Where would Louis have put it last night? 

Harry stands and glances around the room, tears still dripping down his cheeks. It doesn't take long for Harry to spot his phone on the charger in the kitchen. Quickly, he makes his way towards it, already knowing what he wants to do. 

It takes a couple of tries for his phone to recognize Harry's fingerprint, but when he does, he opens the phone app. He's memorized the path towards the contact and before he knows it, he's bringing the phone to his ear. 

The ring only lasts a second before a family voice washes over him. 

_"Harry? It's like 9 in the morning on a Saturday, what,"_ The voice groans.

"Can we meet at the park in ten? I really need to talk to you." 


	22. A Sheep in Wolf's Clothing

The cold air bites at Harry's face as he sits at a park bench a couple of minutes later. He's changed into a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie, but the itch of the clothes from last night still hang around him. 

Harry swears he would be able to see Taylor's blond hair from a mile away. She wears a hoodie that's a couple of sizes too large for her and a pair of black yoga pants. He can tell she's rolled straight out of bed to come, not only from the phone call, but because of her demeanor. Taylor waddles her way over to Harry, her hands wrapped up in the ends of her sweater to keep them warm. 

"What was so important you couldn't say over the phone," Taylor asks bitterly once she's in earshot. Harry pushes his hands deeper into his hoodie pockets as Taylor takes the last of her strides to stand in front of him. 

"I was just lonely," Harry says simply. He glances up at his friend and watches as her expression softens momentarily. 

Taylor doesn't say anything as she takes the spot next to Harry on the bench. He doesn't know why he asked Taylor to come and why it was so important that he saw her in person. So, Harry fixes his gaze on the swaying trees in the distance. 

The presence of Taylor is comforting for Harry as he enjoys the silence the two share. Every now and again, a slight shiver runs down Taylor's back or her teeth chatter, but it's the only thing the fills the silence between the two of them. 

Harry turns to her and admires his friend. She's beautiful, he's decided. Not the kind that you immediately notice, but the kind that comes with getting to know someone. Sure, he thought she was hot when he first saw her chem, but it's different now he decides. When they're together, her smile is from laughing at his jokes (or her own) and her blue eyes brighten with excitement and glee. 

While he admires her, he notices a few locks of blond hair that have fallen out of the bun she wears it in, and Harry instinctively moves to tuck them back in place. His finger lingering on her head for a moment, before pulling it away. Taylor turns to him as he does and their eyes meet. She offers him a small platonic smile and scrunches her nose playfully. Harry doesn't know why he does it, but he's leaning in. 

He kisses her, hoping for her to kiss him back, but she doesn't move. Harry pulls away when he tastes salt between their lips. A look of shock sits in Taylor's blue eyes and Harry turns away in embarrassment. Silent tears fall down his cheeks. 

"Harry, why did you ask me to come here," Taylor questions softly, as if not to startle him. Harry turns back to the trees and pulls as far away from Taylor as he can, mortified at what he's done. 

"I don't know," He admits, a choked sob escaping him as he does. He sniffles loudly and brings a hand up to pathetically wipe the tears from his eyes, but before he can return his hand to his pocket, Taylor grabs it. 

"What's wrong? You can talk to me, Harry." 

Harry doesn't know if it's their hands touching or the genuineness of her voice that causes the words to come tumbling out of his mouth. "I feel so numb." 

Taylor doesn't say anything, so Harry continues, "I feel so alone all the time and I try to make friendships and relationships, but they always fail. Everyone knows me because I sleep around a lot, but it's not working. Every time I have sex I'm just trying to feel something, you know? Like, like maybe if I can fuck this one just right I'll finally understand what everyone is talking about. All of my guy friends go on about how great sex makes them feel and how much pleasure they get from it, but I never do. I don't know if I'm broken or fucked up somehow, I don't know. I don't even know what the point of it is half the time. Sure I can get off and that's nice sometimes, but I feel so empty during it all and trapped in it, I guess." 

Harry notices at the end of his rambling that his whole field of vision is a gray blur. He blinks a couple of times to clear the tears from his eyes and notices his wobbling chin. Surely he looks like a kid crying like this. 

He doesn't even know why it bothers him so much anyway. Harry hates himself for thinking like this, nonetheless, actually expressing it to someone. Everyone and everything have told him that he has to enjoy sex with girls, so why can't he? Why can't he just fuck a girl and feel good while doing it? Why does he overthink all of it, to begin with? None of this happened before Louis came into the picture, and Harry scorns Louis for dragging all of this up. 

"I'm sorry you have to go through that," Taylor replies after a moment. 

"I'm sorry for kissing you like that, it wasn't okay," He adds. Taylor doesn't respond and they continue to sit on the bench in silence. 

The questions, insecurities, and anxieties spiral through Harry's head and it becomes all too much. It's been a while since he's gotten like this, but he still remembers what to do. It's as easy as breathing. 

_"Stop having those fits and just shut the fuck up. You're not your sister, so stop your blubbering. Nobody is going to want to be around you if you keep that shit up."_

His father's words repeat themselves over and over in his head like waves crashing against a rocking ship. With every repetition, Harry feels himself stepping back from his own mind and towards the dark, emptiness he usually locks himself in. The light of self-awareness and his own emotions starts to become far away, before eventually disappearing entirely. 

After a minute, Harry feels Taylor's head on his shoulder. A shiver runs through her body again and he moves closer to help warm her up some. "We're all a little fucked up. If sleeping with people doesn't make you feel better, than maybe don't do it. Hook-up culture is stupid anyway," Taylor sighs. 

"Maybe," Harry murmurs. 

Taylor loops her arms through Harry's and moves closer towards him. Her hair tickles his neck, but he doesn't move. Not a single thought crosses Harry's mind and, after a while, the cold air doesn't even bother him. 


End file.
